Ich Bin Preussen
by WhiteCrow10
Summary: After 1989, Gilbert Beilschmidt went missing. Years later, his brother Germany goes on a search for him. Could it be that Izaya Orihara holds the key to finding the lost nation of Prussia? Based on the idea that Izaya is Prussia. Shizaya later on. Rating boosted to M after Chapter 20.
1. Prologue

**I have returned! Finally, here I am doing something that's chaptered instead of one-shots (aside from the Harry Potter/Hetalia thing I'm doing)! **

**Getting to the point though, this is an idea I've had for a month or so. It all stemmed from how much Prussia and Izaya look so much alike. One day, I was thinking about jokes that center around Izaya truly being Prussia; like he dyed his hair, learned Japanese, and wants to screw with people because he has nothing better to do. Then I thought what if Izaya is Prussia but he doesn't know it? It just seems to make sense in it's own little way. They both look alike aside from the hair, they both speak Russian (think East Germany, people), and Izaya talks about humans as if he isn't one and, well, Prussia is a nation. I thought it would be an interesting concept and BOOM! I had a million ideas ready to go. By the way, the title translates to "I am Prussia."  
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**I hope you all enjoy this little cross-over idea I came up with. Please read, review, and enjoy!**

Ich Bin Preußen

A Hetalia/Durarara Crossover

Prologue

Berlin, Germany 1934

It hurt. It hurt so much. He couldn't breathe. Hell, he could barely speak. In fact, he could barely stand. He was so weak.

Prussia felt his body shaking as his country was pronounced part of Germany. His brother placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but it did nothing. Prussia, a great nation, had been dissolved by the Nazi Reich.

"_Bruder_, I'm sorry…" Germany apologized once it was all over.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," Prussia sighed, his eyes dimmed by what had just happened. "I swear… This damn country's gonna go to hell… I can feel it in my bones…"

Germany frowned at his older brother and put an arm around Prussia's shoulder. "Come on, let's go home…"

…

1947

You know those times where you want to be wrong? Like, you really, really, _really _don't want to be right about something? That's how Prussia felt. He was right that the country would go to hell and it did throughout the entire war. Now, he and his brother had to pay for it.

_Gott… It burns…_

The Allies had declared Prussia dissolved. Gone. There was no longer a country called Prussia. He didn't exist anymore. He was no longer Prussia, he was just Gilbert Beilschmidt.

_It burns… it burns… it burns! _

Getting his status as a nation ripped from him was like getting roasted alive or skinned alive… either one. He felt like something inside of him had been ripped out and torn to pieces, never to be repaired. He cried and cried as his soul was ripped out of him. He cried until he had no more tears left to shed and then cried some more, sobs coming out dry. Germany could only watch as his brother was reduced to tears, the former nation becoming so weak and so fragile.

_It hurts… I wish I wasn't a nation. That way, I could die and no longer feel any pain…_

Eventually, Gilbert was on the floor, breathing laboriously. It felt like flames were licking his skin and then entering his veins, burning him to a crisp from the inside out. In due time, the sensation was lost and he no longer felt a thing connected to his country. Prussia was no more.

"The country of Germany shall be split amongst the Allies," England announced, glaring at the two countries. "France, America, and I will have the Western part and Russia will take the Eastern part. Does that sound fair?"

"What about Gilbert?" Germany demanded, glaring up at the Allies.

"He will act as East Germany for now," England said and Russia walked forward, grabbing Gilbert's arm.

"You'll be coming with me, da?" Russia smiled, dragging Gilbert with him.

"Wait! Let him go!" Germany protested as the Russian dragged the albino away.

"It is useless to resist," Russia chuckled as he took Gilbert away. "Besides… all will become one with Russia…"

…

Berlin, Germany 1989

"Let me through, let me through!"

A scruffy-haired albino pushed through a throng of people, elbowing people in the sides and pushing some to the ground. It didn't matter; he needed to get the front. He could sense something great was happening, something life changing…

"Move, move!" he shouted and then found himself standing in front of the Berlin Wall, watching as the concrete terror was dismembered by West and East Germans alike. A smile spread across his face and he ran up to a man swinging at the wall with a hammer. "Can I borrow this?"

The man nodded and the albino grabbed the hammer, slamming it against the wall with all his strength. Some of the concrete splintered and broke away, leaving a small dent. Striking again and again, the man soon punched a hole through the wall, big enough for him to stick his hand out and to look out of. While peering out with a blood red eye, he spotted a tall man with slicked-back blonde hair and blue eyes. His pulse quickened and he began to tear more of the wall apart, determined to reach the other side.

Eventually, he had broken through and raced towards the blonde man, embracing him quickly. The two brothers, separated for decades, hugged, laughed, and even cried (which they would never admit to doing if asked). Ludwig and Gilbert were reunited and with them, Germany was one country once more.

…

"Gilbert…? Are you okay?"

Gilbert looked up from watching the fire in the fireplace, the orange glow illuminating his face in a rather eerie way. He had been staying in Germany's house for at least a week after the wall went down and although he had at first seemed delighted to be out of Russia's grasp, he had mellowed out and then lounged around the house, all excitement gone from his once cheery face. His eyes had grown dim and he no longer declared himself the "awesomest-person-in-the-world." Gilbird didn't even make him happy. It was all very troublesome and it made Germany very nervous.

It truly was a feat to make the mighty Germany nervous and Gilbert had accomplished it.

"I… I'm fine, West…" Gilbert sighed, turning his eyes back to the burning embers of the fire.

"No, you're not," Germany frowned, walking over to his brother. "_Bruder_, you're not acting like yourself…"

"I'm sorry I've been such a bummer but…" he sighed heavily. "I miss being a country… It feels so wrong not to be like that anymore…" His ruby eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. "I… I want to go somewhere else… I can't be here anymore…"

"Gilbert," Germany said. "It's going to be fine. How about I get you a beer?"

Gilbert nodded silently and Germany left the room to get a beer. The former nation stared into the fire again, settling on a decision. Germany walked back in and handed the beer bottle to Gilbert.

"Here," he said. "I'm going to go to bed. Make sure to turn in sometime soon."

"Got it, West…" Gilbert muttered as he uncorked the bottle.

The other walked upstairs, leaving the albino to his own devices. Gilbert took a sip from the bottle and licked his lips, disappointed. When had the beer become so bland? When had life become not worth living? He clenched his teeth and tightened his fists. _Dammit! _He threw the bottle at the wall across from him, sending glass and beer spraying everywhere.

He put his head in his hands, letting out quick shuddering breaths. He had to go. He had to leave this damn country. Something was pulling him away from it all, he could feel it.

Gilbert got to his feet, shaking a bit, and snuck up quietly to his room, packing his suitcase quickly.

_Have to go, have to leave…_

He tiptoed past Germany's room and ran into the kitchen, finding a paper and pen. He scrawled out a note, grabbed Gilbird, and left through the back door, running out into the rain.

And no one, not a single soul, had heard from Gilbert Beilschmidt ever since.

Until the 21st century…


	2. Chapter 1: Search

**Hello! Here I am, back with another chapter! I'm glad all you liked it and I hope you'll like it even more as it goes along. Please enjoy this next chapter!**

Chapter 1

Search

Berlin, Germany Present Day

Germany stared out his window, his icy blue eyes fogged as he remembered what had happened many years ago. Gilbert had disappeared, leaving only a broken beer bottle and a note of apology. He fished the note out of his pocket and read the smudged text, the same questions coming to his mind that had been present when Gilbert had first disappeared.

_Bruder-_

_ I am sorry. I can't stay here anymore. After the wall fell, I couldn't help but feel… different. I don't think I belong in Germany. It's not my country anymore, it's yours. I have to go somewhere else and clear my head. I don't know if we'll ever see each other ever again… but I sincerely hope that we will. _

_ Auf wiedersehen,_

_ -Gilbert_

_Why on earth did he leave…? _Germany thought, rubbing his temples. To him, it made no sense. Then again, Gilbert had been acting strange ever since the wall fell… Was it because of the time he spent with Russia or was it due to him losing his status as a nation?

As he thought, he failed to notice someone entering the room, that someone being a certain Italian. Feliciano Vargas, the personification of North Italy, was one of Germany's closest friends and, despite his usual happy demeanor, he was rather concerned about how much the German was worrying over the issue of Gilbert's disappearance.

"Germany…?" Italy said timidly as he approached his friend. "Ludwig, the meeting is about to start…"

The blond man snapped out of his thoughts and turned his blue eyes on the auburn-haired Italian. "Oh, Feliciano… I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in…" He folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his breast pocket, making sure it stayed in good condition. "I forgot all about the meeting… I'm sorry if I made you wait."

"Oh no, no!" Italy insisted, holding up his hands. "I just got here, actually. Lovino and I woke up late and we had to rush here. Kiku told me where you were though. He knew you wouldn't want to be late to the meeting…"

"Ah, I see…" Germany nodded, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. Japan, known by his human name as Kiku, was always such a good friend and was constantly looking out for everyone close to him. "I'll have to thank him later. Shall we head off?"

Italy nodded, a worried frown on his face as he watched Germany head for the door. "Ludwig… Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something's bothering you," the younger country said, gently touching Germany's breast pocket. "Is it about Gilbert?" Germany remained silent and took Italy's smaller hand in his own. "I really miss him too… but I'm worried that it's all you've been thinking about lately. I'm really worried about you, Ludwig…"

"Don't worry too much about me, Feliciano," Germany said, bringing the Italian's hand up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on Italy's skin. "I've just been thinking it over a lot lately… I'm going to bring it up today."

"Are you sure?"

"I need to find him," the blond said, dead serious. "He's my brother, after all."

"I understand, Ludwig," Italy nodded, knowing that if he had lost Lovino, he would go to any lengths to find him. "I promise I'll help even if no one else will."

"Thank you, Feliciano," Germany smiled, looking very grateful… until he saw the time. "We should leave now. The meeting's bound to start any minute…"

Italy nodded and followed Germany out of the room, the two of them heading for the meeting room. That week's meeting was being held in Berlin, making it easy for Germany to reach. However, being in Berlin had brought about memories of Gilbert and his sudden disappearance, leading Ludwig to think about what had happened 1989. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to search for his lost brother and be reunited with him for the second, and hopefully last, time.

As Germany feared, the meeting had started before he and Italy were able to reach the room, causing them to walk into complete and total chaos. Without the orderly force named Germany, the world meeting had spiraled out of control, especially since the first speaker had been none other than America.

Judging by what the two countries could see on the blackboard, America's plan for world peace had something to do with McDonald's and Superman… although much couldn't made from the notes since Korea had written over them, declaring how he invented blackboards. The country that had been leading the meeting was now gone from the podium and was now trying to heroically save England from a naked and lecherous France.

Across the room, China was busy trying to run away from Korea, who had taken the opportunity to sneak up on the older country and molest him. As this occurred, Russia ran by them, Belarus following close behind. Hungary had her frying pan out and was whacking anyone who dared to come close enough to her or Austria while Romano struggled nearby, trying to get Spain off of him.

"Dammit, Spain! Get the hell off of me!"

"But Lovi~ You're just too cute! And I have to protect you from all of these loco people…"

In the doorway, Germany rubbed his temples in frustration. Why on earth was he the only force that could keep the meetings from dissolving into chaos? For the millionth time, he wished desperately for there to be some way for the nations to have a meeting without turning into… well… THIS.

From the horror that once was the world meeting emerged Japan, staggering over to the two other nations as if he had just walked out of a zombie apocalypse. He was missing his jacket and his tie was loosened, hanging over his shoulder. Upon spotting the other two, his brown eyes widened in amazement and pure, unbridled relief.

"G-Germany-san! Italy-kun!" Japan gasped, rushing over to the two nations in desperation. "Thank goodness! I thought you would never arrive!"

"Japan, what happened?" Germany asked as Italy ducked under a stray gunshot fired by Switzerland.

"It all happened so quickly!" Japan muttered, shaking slightly. "At first, America-san was talking about Superman and penguins… and then Korea started saying things and France took of his clothes and…" the island nation shuddered and turned to Germany, bowing slightly. "Please forgive me. It is hard to go through such a traumatizing thing all over again."

"Don't worry about it, Japan," Germany sighed. "I guess this means I have to take charge…" He turned to Italy who did a quick salute and handed the blond a rather large megaphone. The German straightened out his spine, going into army mode, and cleared his throat, ready to belt out harsh commands. "Everybody SHUT UP!"

The room froze and all eyes were on Germany. Once it registered in everyone's minds who was there, every single nation quickly took their seats.

"What on earth is this mess of a meeting?" Germany demanded, putting down the megaphone. "We are here to solve problems and nothing has ever been solved through conflict."

"History begs to differ…" America muttered and quickly shrunk down into his seat when the German shot a glare his way.

"I expect better of all of you!" Germany continued and then focused his gaze on France and Korea. "Well… Most of you…" he then turned to America. "Especially you! You were supposed to be leading this meeting yet it turned to chaos!"

"I tried to stop them, honest to God I did!" England spluttered from America's side, his thick eyebrows furrowed as his mouth twisted into a scowl. "But they wouldn't listen! They just wouldn't listen! And then France-!"

"I think I can put everything together," Germany sighed. "Let us continue the meeting in an orderly and serious fashion." The blond withdrew his reading glasses from his breast pocket and slipped them onto his face, looking over his papers carefully. "Seeing as we've wasted enough time with America leading the meeting…"

"Hey!"

"…I suggest that I continue the meeting and present my case to the rest of you," Germany said, ignoring America's scorned cry. "First, I would like to address an issue that, truthfully, has been weighing on my mind for quite some time. I'm sure you all remember my brother Gilbert?"

There were low murmurs and nods all around the room as each and every nation recalled the loud and self-proclaimed most awesome person in the world.

"Ah yes, Gilbert, one of my best friends…" France sighed, a nostalgic look on his face. "He was always great company… especially when it came to late nights at a bar…"

"Oh yes! I remember!" Spain chuckled, his grip still firm on Romano. "Gilbert was just hilarious when he got drunk!" he paused, a quick thought coming to mind. "_If _he got drunk…"

"I do not need to know what you two did with my brother on your many… rampages," Germany snorted. "May we please divert all attention back to the matter at hand?" Everyone fell silent. "Thank you. Now, many of you may be wondering why I brought up Gilbert, especially after he's been missing for over twenty years. In truth, his absence is precisely the reason I mentioned him. For years, I have wondered what has become of my brother and now, I am finally ready to actually do something about it. I propose a search for my lost brother. It doesn't have to be real extensive or organized by our governments; I just ask that you all keep an eye out for him and let me know if you find anything. Are there any questions?"

"Just one," England said, raising his hand slightly. "Why now? He disappeared in 1989. Why did you wait so long?"

Germany paused and then sighed, taking of his glasses and setting down his papers. "I've asked myself the same question time and again. Truthfully, I don't think the time was right back then. I didn't know what to do or where to start… but now, I am confident that I'll be able to search abroad as long as I have the help from people who I know to be my closest friends and allies. After all, haven't all had one person who we've lost that we wanted to keep searching for?"

The rest of the room went completely silent and nations started to cast glances around the table. It was true after all; they all had a certain experience like that, some more successful than others.

"Seeing as that question has been handled, will you all help me in finding my brother?" the blond asked and the room went silent again, eyes darting around as the nations thought.

Italy broke the silence. "But of course I will! Germany is my greatest friend and I would do anything for him!"

"I agree with Italy-kun," Japan nodded from his seat. "I will do anything it takes to find Gilbert-san."

"Well, Gilbert was one of my best amigos," Spain smiled from his seat and turned to Romano. "What do you say, mi amor? Shall we?"

Romano glared at Germany. "I don't like you at all, you bastard… but if the same happened to me, I would go to any lengths to find my brother so…" he let out a long sigh. "Okay."

Eventually, the entire room broke out in agreements and promises to keep an eye out for the former nation. When Germany's turn ended, he thanked everyone and stepped down from the podium, taking a seat in-between Japan and Italy.

"Germany-san, do you really think Gilbert-san is out there?" Japan asked.

"I know he is," Germany sighed as England took the stage. "I just hope he isn't getting in too much trouble…"

…

Ikebukuro, Japan

"I-ZA-YAAAAAAA!"

Miles away from Berlin, in the city of Ikebukuro, a vending machine flew through the air and landed firmly into the ground, narrowly missing a young man dressed in black. Unlike what most people would do in this situation, the young man cackled, looking rather triumphant.

"So glad you could find me, Shizu-chan," the man chuckled, facing his assailant. "I thought you were going to be late…"

The young man's assailant stepped out of the rising dust, lowering his violet sunglasses so that his hazel eyes were glaring over the tops. For someone living in Japan, he was dressed rather irregularly. He wore a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a black weskit, the outfit completed with a nice little black bowtie. He fixed the man in black with a hard glare and removed his sunglasses, placing them in his breast pocket as he ran a hand through his tousled blond hair.

"Don't act so surprised, flea," he growled. "You knew I would find you. It doesn't take much for me to pick up that awful stench of yours…"

Most onlookers began to back away, fearing for their lives. However, the young man in black only smirked and let out a small chuckle, his red eyes shining with amusement.

"Oh, Shizu-chan… how can you be so cruel?" he sighed, feigning hurt. "Why must you be so mean? I just have _no idea _why you hate me so much…"

"You've made my life a living hell!" the blond, "Shizu-chan," snapped. "I was doing just fine until you got me arrested! Doesn't that sound familiar, _Izaya-kun_?"

"Hmmmm…" the other, Izaya, murmured, looking thoughtful. "Nope… Doesn't ring a bell."

That was the breaking point for the blond. With a vicious roar, the blond uprooted a traffic sign from the ground and hurtled it like a javelin towards Izaya. Rather than dodge the sign, Izaya smirked and stood his ground, watching as the object hurtled towards him. At the very last second, the brunette leapt into the air, allowing the sign to zoom right under his feet and into a mailbox not too far behind him.

"Oooh, what a nice throw!" he chuckled, clapping his hands as he turned back to face a quite steamed blond. "And your aim is just beautiful! Unless… you were aiming for _me_, Shizu-chan."

The blond growled, a vein pulsing in his temple as he glared at the man who was so intent on ruining his life. "I thought I told you that my name is Shizuo Heiwajima!" he roared as he uprooted a newspaper box and threw it at Izaya.

This time, Izaya dodged and started to run off, cackling madly as he went. "You can't catch me, Shizu-chan~~!"

A low growl rumbled in Shizuo's throat as the brunette ran off and in seconds, the blond was chasing after him, his mind only focused on maiming the informant.

"IZAYAAAAAAAA!"

The informant glanced behind him as he ran, amused to see that Shizuo was following. He turned his head forwards as he turned a sharp corner, a smirk breaking out on his face. Shizuo was just too predictable and so easy to manipulate! No matter what happened, the blond would always snap when Izaya walked into sight. It was just so much fun!

As the cackling informant ran from the rampaging bull known as Shizuo, the two failed to notice a dark figure perched upon a pitch-black motorcycle. Celty Sturluson, the Black Rider of Ikebukuro, could only shake her head, or lack thereof, as the two long-time enemies ran by. Nothing would ever change between the two would it? Drawing her attention away from the disappearing men, the dullahan sped off in the opposite direction, leaving the chaos behind her.

Little did any of them know that soon enough, their lives were going to change in the most drastic way ever.


	3. Chapter 2: Lost and Found

**It... it's done! My goodness, I'm so sorry that I took so long to update. The past week got really busy but luckily, I was able to complete this. I hope everyone likes this chapter. =)**

Chapter 2

Lost and Found

A few weeks later…

Japan walked out of his apartment complex in Ikebukuro, keeping to himself as he walked to the nearest store. He smiled and nodded to those who greeted him in the city, glancing around at every face he saw. It was good for him to get out and behold the faces that loved him, that loved their country. He loved seeing the children play, the families interacting, and life unfolding.

As a nation, Japan knew everything about the people that lived in the country he represented. For example, there was a little girl down the street from the store named Ayano. She was six years old, went to private school, and loved flowers as well as the color blue.

Every nation could recognize their people, no matter who they were. This was the key to finding Gilbert, looking he that didn't belong in the environment. The real trick would be sifting out tourists but as most saw it, it would be a walk in the park to find the former nation.

Soon enough, Japan was at the store, browsing through a collection of fresh fruit that had recently come in season. After gathering up some peaches, apples, and a watermelon, the Asian nation paid for his groceries and made his way out, holding the bag in his arms. Once outside, however, his cell phone decided to take the opportunity to ring.

_"Atarashi mono daisuki~ hayaritteru mono motto motto suki~"_

So Japan did the manliest thing ever: squealed like a girl and flailed about, not knowing what to do with his bags as his embarrassing ringtone echoed through the air. With a flustered look on his face, Japan quickly shifted his groceries over to one arm as he went to grab his phone, quickly answering it.

"_Moshi-moshi_…" he grunted, trying hard to keep the bag balanced on one arm.

"_Good morning, Japan…_"

The Asian nation jumped slightly, surprised at who was on the other line. "Germany-san? I don't mean to sound rude but I did not expect you to call…"

"_Sorry about that,_" Germany sighed. "_I just wanted to check up on you. Any sign of him?_"

"I'm afraid not," Japan frowned. "Germany-san, it's only been a few weeks since the world meeting. These things take time, after all."

There was silence from the other nation's line and then a large sigh. "_I know… I just want him found and as soon as possible._"

"I understand," the Asian country said, a small smile on his face. "I will keep an eye out and call you if I find anything."

"_Thank you, Japan,_" Germany sighed, grateful. "_That really means a lot._"

"_Douitashimashite_," Japan smiled. "_Ja nee_, Germany-san."

"_Goodbye and… good luck, Japan…_" there was an audible click on the other end and Japan hung up, slipping his phone into his pocket.

After shifting his groceries to a more comfortable position in his arms, the nation began to walk along again, completely peaceful. Sometimes it amused him how much Germany worried. He would get so antsy over things to the point where one couldn't help but laugh. Even now, when he was so wound up about finding Gilbert, he was nervous and troubled. Japan could understand of course; Gilbert was Germany's brother after all.

_If we find Gilbert-san, I hope he knows how lucky his is to have someone care about him so much… _

As Japan walked through Ikebukuro, he felt a sudden pain in his abdominal regions, primarily his back.

"_Shimatta_… My kidney stones are acting up again…" he muttered, placing a hand to his back. "This better not mean what I think it does…"

…

Not too far away, Izaya Orihara was busy plotting how he would get to make this day absolutely perfect… for him. He smiled to himself as he peeked out of the alleyway he was in, spying on his favorite toy, Heiwajima Shizuo. Now, you might think that Izaya was a cruel man, delighting in the pain of others. In fact, that would be so very wrong; he loved humans! Every single one of them!

But he didn't consider Shizuo human…

No, he was more beast than man to the informant and therefore, became his favorite plaything. Shizuo was so easy to manipulate; all it took were the right words. If Izaya said something that upset him, usually pertaining to calling him a monster or talking about his younger brother Kasuka, the debt collector would explode, throwing random, heavy objects at the informant without a second thought. When angered, Shizuo Heiwajima was a dangerous man.

And that's what made it so much _fun_…

Izaya couldn't help but smirk as he watched his target, the debt collector none the wiser. He thought nothing was going to happen to him, that today would be like every other day. Izaya chuckled to himself; boy, was he going to be wrong.

As the blond man greeted Tom Tanaka for another day of collecting debts, Izaya snuck out from the alley he was hiding in and followed the two, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

After five or ten minutes of following the two and watching Shizuo beat the crap out of scumbags that couldn't pay debts, Izaya decided it was time to make the blond explode. As Shizuo and Tom walked to their next destination, Izaya moved close to Shizuo, placing his mouth near the other man's ear.

"_Ohayo_, Shizu-chan~"

He couldn't help but smile when Shizuo froze, his shoulders becoming tense. Oh, his reactions were just so pleasing… The blond slowly turned around, his hazel eyes filled with anger as he looked at Izaya.

"You…" he growled. "I should have known it was you…"

"Finally, you noticed!" Izaya chuckled. "I thought it would take you forever until you turned around!"

Shizuo's eyes widened slightly, surprised as he realized something. "…You've been following us this entire time?"

"_Hai_~!" Izaya cheered. "You're so smart, Shizu-chan~! You deserve a prize~!"

This only angered Shizuo further… which was what Izaya had intended. "You little bastard… I should kill you on the spot!"

Izaya's lips curled into a smirk; that was _just _the reaction he was looking for… "I'd like to see you try~"

A low growl rumbled in the debt collector's throat and the blond reached over and grabbed a traffic sign, uprooting it with one small tug. Without any warning, he swung the sign through the air to try and hit the informant but Izaya was too fast. In seconds, the informant was standing far away from Shizuo, switchblade drawn.

"My, my… Someone's grumpy today~" Izaya chuckled, twirling his knife around before looking at a rather frazzled-looking Tom. "Tom-san, you should try to keep your employee on a leash. He doesn't seem to have much self-control…"

"IZAYAAAAAA!" The breaking point had been reached, much to Izaya's pleasure. The traffic sign, just as expected, came hurtling towards him and, just as planned, Izaya dodged and darted away, leaving behind a very angry bodyguard.

"Bye-bye, Shizu-chan~!" he giggled as he ran off.

Shizuo chased after him while roaring his usual battle cry, picking up the nearest vending machine.

"W-wait, Sh-Shizuo…!" Tom called out but it was too late. With a sigh, the debt collector pushed up his glasses and walked away, leaving the destruction behind him. "…I need a frigging latte…"

…

Not soon after Japan had experienced his troublesome kidney stones, he heard the last thing he wanted to hear.

"I-ZA-YA-KUUUUUN!"

From behind his bag of groceries, Japan let out a distressed sigh. Why now? Just… why? Why on earth did he have to endure the pair that mixed as well as water and oil? Why, why, why?

As he expected, two of Ikebukuro's most known came into view. Even though Japan knew his people like the back of his hand, he had heard enough about those two to know just who they were and what they were up to.

As Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima came closer to where he was standing, the Asian nation pressed close to the nearest building and made sure to watch the reason behind his kidney stones (it had better be good, dammit!). After a few minutes, Japan began to see a pattern in the fighting between the two: Orihara would say something that would irritate Heiwajima and the blond would snap, usually throwing something large and heavy at the other and missing.

Japan let out a sigh. This was it? This was the event to be feared in all Ikebukuro? While entertaining, he truly didn't find it that scary… but maybe that was because of all of the crap he had seen as a country, especially when it came to war.

The nation let his eyes wander over to Shizuo Heiwajima, also known as the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro. Upon looking at the man's face, Japan could recall endless amounts of information on the debt collector. He worked with Tom Tanaka after all other job options failed, his younger brother was Kasuka Heiwajima or Yuuhei Hanejima, he had a great love for sweets, he landed himself in the hospital many times when he was younger due to his great strength, and was a social pariah during high school, with the exceptions of Shinra Kishitani and Kyohei Kadota.

Not to mention he hated… violence? Japan rose an eyebrow, trying hard to associate that fact with the person wielding a stop sign in front of him. It was always interesting to find out different things about a person; sometimes, they were just so surprising.

Japan then turned his brown eyes onto Izaya, ready to see the different facts about such an interesting man. Yet much to his surprise, he was unable to recall any information about the informant. In fact, all that he knew about Izaya was what he had heard from other people. The nation frowned at this; Izaya was Japanese and he had family living in the nation, so there was no reason why he would be a tourist. Suddenly, it all made sense to him.

What if Orihara was a lead to finding Gilbert? In fact, what if he was the missing former nation? As Japan watched the two fight, he could pick up on the similarities between the informant and Gilbert. The striking red eyes, the immature yet strangely intelligent personality… Aside from the hair, this man seemed to be a carbon copy of the former nation.

"Dammit, flea!" Shizuo roared. "Stop moving!"

"Face it, Shizu-chan," Izaya chuckled as he back flipped over a mailbox Shizuo threw. "You can't catch me~" The blond threw a punch at him but Izaya snaked by, sliding under his arm and racing off down the street. "_Ja nee_, Shizu-chan~!"

"I-ZA-YAAAAA!" the blond debt collector roared and chased after the informant, the two leaving Japan's sight in due time.

Japan stared after them, in complete awe. Could Orihara Izaya really be Gilbert Beilschmidt? Whatever the case, he needed to call Germany like he had promised. Quickly, he pulled his phone out and dialed his friend.

"_Hello?_" the German answered.

"It's me," Japan said. "Germany-san, I may have found a lead…"

…

Berlin, Germany

A few days later

"Shit… shitshitshitshit… SHIT!" America cursed as he rushed down the hallway of the meeting building.

Obviously, he was late. Now, it wasn't as if he wanted to be late, oh no. He also had not wanted to fly out all the way to Germany for an emergency meeting, especially since he had gotten the memo a day ago. But due to his President convincing him that things wouldn't run well due to the "hero" not being there, America had hopped on board the plane and, like a hero should, woke up late.

So now, he was heroically running to the meeting room because he was horribly late.

_Maybe no one's there yet… _he thought hopefully. _They all slept in like me because they got here last night like I did! Yeah! That's it! _In seconds, the door was in sight and he began to calm down. _This'll be a piece of cake. I'll just walk through those doors, sit down, and wait for everyone else. No one will even kno-_

Of course, once he threw open the door to the room, America was immediately proven wrong. Every single nation was sitting inside, staring at him as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. Scanning the room with his blue eyes, he looked desperately for another empty seat. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the only one…

"America, there you are…" a voice grunted and America swiftly focused his gaze on Germany. The other blond didn't look amused at all… "We've been waiting for you. Please, take a seat."

America nodded sheepishly and quietly took his seat next to England, trying hard to ignore all the eyes that were upon him. As Germany started to recap their last meeting, America couldn't help but glance curiously to his left. Sitting next to him was a person he had never seen before… well, that was only part true; the person next to him looked almost like the American!

"Excuse me…" he whispered to the strange look-alike. "Who are you?"

The other blond turned to face him, his violet eyes confused. "I'm Canada…"

America cocked his head to the side. "Wha…?"

"The country above yours?" Canada offered, hoping to jog America's memory.

"I thought that was just another one of my states…"

"It's me, Matthew!" Canada sighed, rolling his eyes. "You know, your _brother_?"

America blinked at the other blond, still endlessly confused. "I have one of those?"

"America!" Germany barked from the front of the room and America sunk into his seat. "Do you really have to disrupt this meeting?"

"But he-!" America protested, pointing to Canada.

"I don't see anyone there," Germany snorted. "Now, pay attention!"

America pouted and next to him, Canada shook his head.

"I'm not invisible, you know…"

"As I was saying before I was interrupted, we now have reason to believe that we have found information on Gilbert's whereabouts," Germany said and suddenly, the entire room went silent. "Japan?"

"_Arigatou_, Germany-san," Japan said, bowing slightly as he walked to the front of the room. "A few days ago, I came across something that will help us in our search. In the folders in front of each of you is a picture of a young man native to my home. Does he look familiar to any of you?"

America, like many of the nations, did as Japan said and studied the picture of the man; black hair, pale skin, and striking red eyes. The blond nation frowned as he searched his memory for the man, unable to identify him as one of his own. After a good minute or so, other countries looked up at Japan and shook their heads, having no idea to what country this man belonged.

"Who is this man, Japan?" England asked after studying the picture. "What relevance does he have to Gilbert?"

"I am glad you asked, England-san," Japan said. "None of you could recognize this man since he is not native to your homes. While to most, that is normal but this case is extremely unusual. I cannot identify him as one belonging to my home. Therefore…"

"You have reason to believe that he may be Gilbert," France finished for him, dead serious.

"Are you sure?" Austria asked, looking a bit doubtful. "It would be great if we could find Gilbert but it's only been a few weeks. What if this man isn't who we think he is?"

"Don't worry, we won't just assume that he's Gilbert-san," Japan assured the other nation. "Rushing into things will cause more problems than needed. Instead, Germany-san and I will go and see if he truly is the one we're looking for. If he's not the one we need, we'll have to keep searching. Even if he's not the one, I won't abandon the promise I made to Germany-san."

"Thank you, Japan," Germany murmured, looking slightly grateful.

Back at the meeting table, America still had his eyes locked on the picture of the man in question. Those eyes were so red, somewhat entrancing… and very familiar. In truth, he wouldn't be surprised if this was Gilbert. The dark-haired man looked like he could cause trouble just like the former nation. "Hey, Japan… What is this guy's name anyways?"

Japan turned to the American, locking brown eyes with sky blue ones. "Izaya Orihara."

**Side notes: Japan's ringtone is one of his character songs by the name of "Excuse Me, I'm Sorry." Japanese translations: "moshi-moshi" means hello. However, it is only used when answering the phone. "Douitashimashite" means you're welcome and "ja nee" is a casual way of saying goodbye, usually used on friends. It's the equivalent of "see you later." "Shimatta" basically translates to crap. You won't hear people using it much, however, because it is considered really rude in Japan. "Ohayo" is the shorter and casual way of saying good morning. The longer and more poliete version is "ohayo gozaimasu." "Hai" is how you say yes in Japanese and "arigatou" is a short was of saying thanks. Like with the term for good morning, there is a longer and more poliete version, "arigatou gozaimasu."**

**About countries and their citizens: I believe that a nation would be able to instantly recognize a citizen of their homes, also knowing everything about them. This gives Japan and Germany reason to believe that Izaya is a good place to start when finding Gilbert.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	4. Chapter 3: Meeting

**Here we go, the third chapter. I can't help but feel like this is late... so sorry if I've been keeping you all waiting. . I'm really glad that there are quite a few people who have reviewed, favorited, and put this on their story alerts. It really means a lot. =) I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 3

Meeting

A few days later…

Izaya rose bright and early, smiling to himself as he stretched his lithe body across his large bed much like a cat would. Slowly, he sat up from his position and stretched out his arms, a small yawn slipping out of his lips like a mewl.

"Ah, another day to play with my humans," Izaya purred, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Mmmm… I wonder if Namie is here yet…"

Izaya then climbed out of bed, making his way into the living room of his apartment. He glanced around with his scarlet eyes, looking for any sign of his secretary. He spotted her bag behind her desk and could smell something cooking in the kitchen. A smirk then spread across the informant's face and he tip-toed over to the next room.

"Namie-san~~~!" he called out in a sing-song voice. "I see you're making breakfast for me~ How kind!"

The former head of Yagiri Pharmaceuticals turned her head slightly to glare at him with one brown eye. "If you think I've made this for you, you're horribly mistaken."

"Awww, so mean~" Izaya pouted, slinking into the kitchen. "Is that any way to treat your poor boss?"

Namie snorted and turned away from him, focusing on the food she was making. "Get some actual clothes on or you don't get a thing."

Izaya looked down at his clothes; a brown hoodie, a pair of black shorts, and a pair of ankle socks. What was wrong with them? They were just his usual night clothes…

"Fine then," he said, sticking his tongue out at his secretary. "I guess you just can't contain yourself when I have my legs exposed. After all, they are a sneak preview to everything else~" He quickly moved to the side as a salt shaker flew past his head, the object cracking open as it hit the floor. "My, my… The floor's filthy now…" he said as he looked at the salt covering the floor. "Spilled salt, Namie. That's bad luck, you know…"

"Hurry up, will you?" the woman snapped. "The sooner I get this done, the sooner I get to work. I'm not waiting for you while you screw around."

"Alright, alright…" Izaya sighed, retreating back towards his room. Before he entered the bedroom, he looked back at her with a smirk on his face. "And Namie, you're going to have to clean that little mess up too."

After the informant disappeared into his room, Namie started to get a little rougher with the eggs she was scrambling. One of these days she was going to poison the little bastard, job be damned.

…

A few seconds after Namie had threatened him with no breakfast, Izaya had taken off his night clothes and decided to take a shower for good measure. Once the hot water washed over his head and body, he felt instant relief. There was just something about a hot shower that could set the mind at ease while loosening up his muscles.

After a few minutes, Izaya turned off the water and stepped out, feeling content with his short shower. He grabbed some clean clothes after he dried off, pulling on his underwear and pants. As he slipped his shirt over his head, he couldn't help but glance at his back in the bathroom mirror. Looking over his shoulder, he ran one scarlet eye across his pale flesh, amazed at all of the scar tissue there. He didn't know Shizuo had landed so many hits on him…

But then again, most of the scars on his back looked like they had been there for years and years…

Izaya frowned and shook his head, pulling the black fabric of his shirt the rest of the way down his torso. Those scars meant nothing, nothing at all. They were probably injuries that he had forgotten about and nothing more.

But then again…

He mentally slapped himself. There was no real need to think about the matter any further. They meant nothing and that was that.

Now fully dressed and thoughts of the scars put behind him, Izaya snuck back to the kitchen with a smirk on his face. "Namie-san~!"

Almost immediately, a plate of scrambled eggs was shoved into his face.

"Take it," Namie growled as she balanced the plate using one hand. "I need to work."

"_Arigatou_~!" Izaya chirped and Namie only snorted in response as she pushed past him. "You know, you need to cheer up a little. You're making my apartment too gloomy."

Namie swiftly turned around to glare at him but said nothing, intent on getting to her desk as soon as possible. Izaya frowned at this reaction; he had been hoping to get a little more out of her. He shrugged it off though. After all, there would be countless opportunities to hassle his secretary throughout the day.

Smiling to himself at this thought, Izaya took a seat and began to eat his breakfast, thinking of ways that he could show his love for the human race for the day.

…

The country of Japan was truly a beautiful place.

That was what Germany had decided as he walked side by side with his long-time friend, who was the representation of the Asian country itself. Normally, Germany would be at Japan's home just for the sole purpose of visiting his friend but today, the reason was more serious.

"Tell me, Japan," he said, glancing at his friend. "Who is this man again?"

"I had a feeling you would ask," Japan said. "I had to do research on him once I found out I couldn't recall anything about him. Izaya Orihara is an information broker who lives in Shinjuku and occasionally shows up in Ikebukuro. From what I've heard, he's very crafty and highly skilled. It would be wise not to underestimate him, Germany-san."

"Interesting…" the blond nation muttered. "Do you know where his apartment is?"

Japan nodded. "After some digging, I was able to find the address." His brown eyes flickered over to his friend. "Germany-san, I must warn you ahead of time… just in case he isn't Gilbert-san…"

"It's okay, Japan," Germany said. "I know."

There was a slight pause between the two as they walked on, neither of them glancing at each other as Japan looked at the paper that had Orihara's address on it. Suddenly, the Asian nation stopped in his tracks, his eyes sliding over to look at Germany.

"Shall I initiate our plan?" he asked.

"Go ahead," the blond said. "We should get this over with as soon as possible."

Japan nodded and pulled out his phone, dialing a certain number. "_Moshi-moshi_. I would like to arrange a meeting. When will he be available?" There was a slight pause and Japan turned to look at Germany, a smile in his eyes. "That will be perfect. Thank you. _Sayonara_."

"Well?" Germany asked.

"We had better start moving," Japan said as he put his phone away. "It won't be too long until we meet with Orihara-san."

"Lead the way, Japan," Germany said with a sharp nod and the two made their way to a rather unsuspecting informant.

…

"Namie-san~~~!"

You know how some people hate their bosses? Well, they had nothing on Namie Yagiri because she had the worst and craziest boss in the entire world.

She tried to drown out the sound of said boss and ignore him by doing paperwork but Izaya was not one to be simply ignored and left by the wayside. Therefore, he made himself as present as possible by placing his hands on her desk and leaning over her.

"What do you want now?" Namie sighed, quickly realizing that she wouldn't be able to get rid of him.

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Izaya sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I only wanted to see if I have any meetings scheduled for today. So mean~"

Namie glared at him and then went through her planner. "Funny you ask. I just got a call a couple minutes ago."

"Oh?"

"Someone wants to meet with you in the next half hour," she told him. "I suggest you get ready."

"Alright, alright…" Izaya sighed, removing himself from her desk. "Who is it this time? Another yakuza member?"

"I don't know," Namie said. "They only asked to meet with you."

"Hmm… Interesting…" Izaya smiled. "Well, today will be an exciting day after all!" He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischievousness. "I can't wait to see this new human…"

Unknown to him, something had been set into motion that he could never even hope to understand.

…

Izaya couldn't help but grow excited when he heard a knock at his door. He wanted so much to see what kind of human his new client was. Were they a gang member, yakuza, depressed person looking for answers? Whatever the answer, he was going to make sure to have fun with his client.

"Coming~!" he chirped and pranced over to his door, opening it to reveal his new client.

Unlike he had first expected, there were two people instead of one. The two differed greatly, one obviously a foreigner. The first was clearly Japanese with short black hair and very wise, yet ancient, dark brown eyes. He was dressed in a simple white suit with a red tie and his face bore not even a hint of emotion. The second man was taller than his companion and had sharp blue eyes and slicked back blond hair. He wore a dark brown suit with a matching tie and stood at attention, his shoulders back and his chest puffed out. Just by looking at him, Izaya could tell just how serious the foreigner was.

The strangest part, however, was that they seemed oddly familiar…

"You are Orihara Izaya, correct?" the Japanese man asked him.

"Guilty as charged," Izaya smirked and gestured for the two to enter. "Please, come in."

The Japanese man bowed slightly and walked in, his taller companion following. As they passed by, Izaya's lips curled into a devilish grin. They weren't what he was expecting but no matter; it just gave him something new to work with.

"Take a seat, any seat," Izaya said told the two as he closed the door. "Shall we start with the formalities? Obviously, you know who I am but I don't know who you are."

The two men glanced at each other, only for a few seconds but Izaya caught it regardless.

"I am Honda Kiku and this is my friend, Ludwig Beilschmidt," the Japanese man, Kiku, said. "_Hajimemashite, _Orihara-san. _Yoroshikuonegaishimasu._"

"_Yoroshiku_," Izaya nodded with a smile. "So, Kiku-san, what do you need my expertise for?" He could see that Kiku was caught off-guard a bit, probably not used to people being so forward and in-formal. In only just a few seconds, he could already tell much about Kiku Honda. He was very traditional and polite, the kind of person Izaya could throw off-guard easily.

"We need you to find someone for us," Ludwig said in surprisingly fluent Japanese, a bit of an accent lingering in his speech. He pulled a picture out of his breast-pocket and handed it to the informant. "This is my brother, Gilbert Beilschmidt. He went missing and I need to find him. Does he look familiar to you?"

Izaya took the photo, looking quite pensive as he studied it. The young man in the photo had silvery hair and striking red eyes, not much unlike the one's Izaya had. He was smiling wickedly at the camera, making a peace sign with a pale hand. Ludwig was also in the picture, a small smile on his face as Gilbert's arm draped over his shoulders.

_Interesting… _the informant thought. _He does look familiar… but from where?_

"Never seen him in my life," Izaya lied, even though the thought just kept nagging him. He focused his eyes on Ludwig. "I can tell from your accent that you're German. If that is so, why come all the way to Japan to look for your brother?"

"Is that any of your business?" Ludwig retorted, glaring at the informant. Kiku then nudged him in the side with his elbow, telling him that it was okay to let the informant know of certain things. "If you must know, he left the country. Kiku recommended I start here and ask you."

Izaya smirked at Ludwig, knowing he could have some real fun with this man. "I'll see what I can find. This will only take a few seconds, I assure you."

The informant walked over to his desk and plopped down in front of his computer, researching as much as he could about Gilbert Beilschmidt. Unlike everyone else he had ever researched, he was unable to find any sort of record on the man. He frowned at this; never before had he been unable to find information on anyone. How could this be?

Izaya glanced back to the two men sitting on his couch, both of them watching him closely. What on earth was this, some sort of joke? They seemed rather serious about this Gilbert person so it seemed highly unlikely that this was just one wild goose chase. To make sure he hadn't missed anything, Izaya ran another search, this time being a bit more thorough. Once again, he came up with nothing as if Gilbert Beilschmidt didn't exist.

He rose from his chair and faced his two clients, trying hard to not show his frustration. "I'm afraid I'm unable to find any information on this Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Are you sure?" Kiku asked.

"Positive," Izaya nodded. "We no longer have business together. I suggest you find a different informant, possibly one closer to Germany."

"Thank you for your services," Kiku said as he and Ludwig rose from the couch. "I'm sorry if we caused you any trouble."

"No problem… as long as I get my payment…"

Kiku nodded and pulled out a few yen bills, handing them to the informant. Ludwig stood as Kiku went for the door, his blue eyes focused on Izaya. The informant glanced at the German, slightly annoyed at the extra attention he was getting from this specific human.

"Can I help you with anything?" Izaya asked rhetorically, glaring at the blond.

"_Sind sie Gilbert Beilschmidt?_" Ludwig asked, looking Izaya straight in the eye.

"_Du bist verrückt,_" Izaya answered without thinking. "_Ich bin Izaya Orihara und sonst niemand. Verlassen sie sofort._"

At this, Ludwig's eyes widened slightly as did Kiku's. Izaya blinked in surprise and covered his mouth. Since when did he know German?

"_Wenn das, was sie wollen,_" Ludwig said in a firm, and somewhat menacing, tone. "_Erwarten sie, um mich in die zukunft sehen. Auf wiedersehen._"

The two men slowly left the apartment, leaving Izaya confused about what he knew of himself.

"N-Namie…" he called out to his secretary, who had left the room prior to Ludwig and Kiku arriving.

"Yes?"

"I want you to leave," Izaya said, focusing on the floor. "Take the rest of the day off."

"Will you pay me?" Namie asked.

"Yes… just leave," Izaya mumbled and the woman complied, leaving him to his mixed and rather jumbled thoughts.

…

"We've found him then…" Japan muttered as he and Germany walked along. "He really is Gilbert."

"He is…" Germany agreed. "But he doesn't remember it. He needs to remember that he's a nation."

"How do you suppose we'll do that?" the Asian nation asked.

Germany sighed heavily. "We can't beat around the bush any longer, Kiku. We'll have to go back and tell him."

Japan looked shocked. "You mean… everything?"

"Everything."

Japan shook his head slowly. "We'll be breaking a lot of rules…"

"I don't give a damn," Germany spat. "Rules or not, that's my brother and we're going to get him back!"

**Okay, translation time... So for the German dialogue, I used Google translate. I know it's not very accurate so please, if any of you know German and see any mistakes, please correct me because I don't know any German. Basically, the German dialogue between Germany and Izaya translates to this: "Are you Gilbert Beilschmidt?" "You're crazy. I'm Izaya Orihara and nobody else. Leave at once." "If that is what you wish. Expect to see more of me in the future. Goodbye." **

**Japanese translations should be correct since I have been studying the language. "Hajimemashite" is basically "nice to meet you." "Yoroshikuonegaishimasu" is what you say after meeting someone. It can translate to "please take care of me" and it's very, VERY formal. "Yoroshiku" is rather informal and more casual; a teenager would most likely use this with a fellow classmate but not an adult. **

**I hope you all liked this chapter. Thank you for reading and please review! ^^**


	5. Chapter 4: Memory

**Whew, got another chapter cranked out. When I started out with this one, I had no idea what to do and most of the time, I was basically slamming my head against the keyboard. But I got it done (within a day, I think... or something like that...) and I really like how it came out! ^^ I hope you all like this next chapter and please review.**

Chapter 4

Memory

"Germany-san… You're pacing again…"

Germany quickly lapsed out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at his fellow nation. They were back at Japan's apartment in Ikebukuro, pondering their encounter with the informant Izaya Orihara from two days before. The strange meeting with the informant had given them proof that Gilbert was within arms reach. However, this finding had also brought up many issues. If anyone else found out that Gilbert and Izaya were the same person, it could endanger the secret of the personified nations and international security.

"I'm sorry, Japan," Germany sighed. "I was just thinking about what England told us."

Shortly after they had finished their talk with the informant, Germany and Japan contacted England and informed him about their predicament. The British nation had seemed rather troubled at the news and had voiced the two nation's concerns about the secret of their existence.

"If you truly believe you've found Gilbert, you have to be careful when you bring him back to the UN…" England had told him.

"The UN?" Japan had asked. "But Gilbert-san is no longer a nation…"

"That is true… but this situation has become a threat to security."

"But that's awfully soon, England-san…" Japan had said with a frown on his face. "We just talked with him."

"There's another problem," Germany had told his fellow nation. "He doesn't remember anything about being a nation and if we take him against his will, it's liable to raise a few eyebrows. I wish for us to talk to him again before we attempt to take him to the UN headquarters. Maybe we can convince him to come back with us."

Germany could still remember the disapproving scowl that England had on his face. Despite this, the other nation had approved the proposition.

"Fine," he had sighed. "But tell me, what will you do if he declines the offer?"

"I'll just have to come up with something then…" Germany had told the other. "Whatever happens, I _will _be bringing Gilbert back. I can promise you that."

"I'll trust your decision then, Germany, but be warned…" England had said with a great amount of seriousness in his voice. "If you can't bring him back, the world will be forced to take action. We can't risk this getting out."

"I understand."

Back in the present, Germany scowled at the memory of the conversation. England was right; if anything got out of hand, then it would spell trouble for the personifications of the nations. Their existence was strictly top secret to all people aside from world leaders. No matter what happened, no one could ever know the secret of the immortals that bled with their countries.

Yes, England was right about the seriousness of the situation… but Germany didn't have to like it.

"I had a feeling England-san's words would upset you…" Japan sighed. "You didn't tell him your plan…"

"Of course not," Germany sighed. "He would have gotten so steamed that his eyebrows would've caught fire. Besides, I don't answer to him."

"So you're going to tell Orihara-san everything about us?" Japan asked, his frown deepening. "Germany-san, I don't think that is wise…"

"How else are we going to convince him? How else can we get him to remember?" Germany asked rhetorically, his frustration building. "There is a chance that he'll remember. We just have to take that chance, Japan."

"Germany-san…" Japan sighed. "Ludwig-san, this is very concerning. What if he doesn't believe us?"

"He will," Germany said, taking Japan's phone from the table. "Let's get this over with…"

…

"Namie-san!" Izaya called out to his secretary. "Namie! Nammiiieeeeeeeee!"

"What the hell do you want?" Namie shouted from her desk. "I'm right here, you know!"

Izaya pouted from his spot on the couch. "You're so mean… Are you going to make me lunch?"

"Am I your slave?" Izaya smirked at this and Namie glared at him. "Don't answer that."

"Namie-san…" Izaya smiled, hanging upside-down off the edge of the couch. "Make me a sammich."

Namie glared at him, not even bothering to tell him the correct way to say "sandwich." "Get it yourself…"

"I'll cut your pay if you don't."

With a heavy sigh, Namie rose from her desk and made her way into the kitchen. Izaya smiled from his position on the couch and bobbed his head around, humming happily. It wasn't too long before his phone started to ring and he frowned at the loud contraption, unwilling to get up to answer it.

"Namie-san!" he called. "Phone!"

"I'm making your damn sandwich!" Namie snapped from the kitchen. "Get it yourself!"

Izaya pouted and rolled off the couch, making his way over to the phone. "Hello?" he answered cheerily, his expression taking a full 360.

"_Hello, Orihara Izaya, correct?_" a deep, heavily-accented voice asked.

"Yes…" the informant answered hesitantly. He knew that voice; after all, it hadn't been that long ago when he had heard it…

"_I assume you remember me,_" the speaker said. "_We just met a couple of days ago, after all…_"

"Yes, Beilschmidt-san," Izaya answered, trying to add more life to his voice. "I could never forget that accent of yours."

"_We have things to discuss,_" Ludwig told him. "_Let's arrange a meeting… but not at your office. It needs to be somewhere else. My friend told me that Russia Sushi also functions as a great meeting place. Is that fine with you?_"

"Sure…" Izaya agreed cautiously. "It will take me about fifteen minutes to get there."

"_Perfect,_" Ludwig said. "_I'm looking forward to our meeting, Izaya._"

_Click. _The line was dead in seconds. Izaya sighed, putting the phone on the hook; another trip to Ikebukuro, huh? Well, if he was lucky, he might be able to hassle Shizuo during his little trip…

"Namie-san!" he called to his secretary. "Forget the sandwich. I'm going out to eat."

There was the audible slam of cabinet doors from the kitchen and a few muttered curses as Namie most likely visualized ringing her boss' neck. Izaya chuckled at this as he left; oh, what a treat it was to ruffle Namie's feathers. He smiled to himself once he reached the elevator, putting his hands in his pockets as the elevator went down.

"Time to visit some old friends…"

…

They were late.

Izaya pouted to himself as he waited in one of the private rooms in Russia Sushi, staring at the door. Those two guests of his, the ones that had asked him to come, were late.

"How rude of them…" he muttered, lowering his gaze down to the untouched ootoro in front of him. "They'd better get here soon or I'm leaving…"

As if on cue, the door to the room slid open and Kiku and Ludwig stepped in, Kiku bowing politely at Izaya as they entered.

"_Konnichi wa, _Orihara-san," Kiku greeted as he took a seat. "I apologize if we made you wait for too long."

"Don't worry about it, Honda-san," Izaya smiled, hiding the impatience he had felt earlier. "Now, what did you two want to talk about?"

"You should already know the answer to this," Ludwig said, staring intently at the informant with bright blue eyes. "Don't you think of yourself as all-knowing?"

"Ooh, charming…" Izaya sneered. "If you don't tell me why you asked me to come here, it won't trouble me to leave. After all, I am a very busy man…"

"It's about Gilbert again," Ludwig said, keeping his eyes trained on the informant.

"Really?" Izaya sighed. "I thought I told you two to try elsewhere…"

"We're persistent," Ludwig snorted.

"Orihara-san, there are a few things we forgot to mention about Gilbert-san," Kiku sighed. "Things that are… very, very important."

Izaya sighed, resting his chin in his hands. "I'm listening…"

"You see, Ludwig-san and I are very special types of people," Kiku explained, stuttering nervously. "We… well, we're different from everyone else populating the earth and, it's going to be hard to understand, but I've been in my twenties for a very long time… if that makes any sense at all…"

"Kiku…" Ludwig said, touching his friend's shoulder. "I can take it from here." He looked up at Izaya, his blue eyes stone-cold. "We're immortal."

Izaya raised an eyebrow. "Haven't heard _that_ one before… So what, you can't die or age?"

"It's not quite like that," Ludwig explained. "We're perfectly capable of doing both things but we don't age or die like humans do."

"Judging by the way you talk, you're setting yourself apart from humans…" Izaya noted. "Therefore…"

"We're not human," Ludwig finished. "None of us are."

"There's more?" the informant asked, obviously intrigued. Ludwig nodded. "Then just what are you? Fairies, vampires?"

"We're nations," Kiku interjected. "To be more precise, we are the personifications of the nations of the world. We each represent our own country, acting almost like a guardian. We're closely linked to our country so if our people feel pain, we feel it too. For example…" he unbuttoned his jacket and pulled up his shirt, showing two large round scars that were on his abdomen. The scars were fading but some of the flesh still looked raw, looking more like burns rather than scars. "These are Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I bet you don't have to piece much together to figure out how they came to be."

Upon seeing Kiku's scars, Izaya suddenly remembered the scars he had seen on his own back the day Ludwig and Kiku first met him. His scars and Kiku's… they couldn't be connected, could they? The informant quickly pushed the thought from his mind and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

"So then, which nations are you two supposed to be?" he asked.

"I represent Japan," Kiku said. "Ludwig-san represents Germany."

"Interesting," Izaya muttered. "So what does this have to do with brother dearest?"

"Gilbert is one of us," Ludwig told him. "However, he is a special case. He used to represent Prussia but after World War II, he was stripped of his nation status and acted as East Germany. For about sixty years, I was separated from my brother. The day the Berlin Wall went down was the happiest day of our lives. But then, shortly after, he… changed. He didn't seem as happy anymore and he was nowhere near as energetic as he had been before. And then one night, he just… vanished." He paused, looking at the wooden table in front of him. "I know that to some, it seems like a lost cause but I _know _he's still out there and I won't stop searching until I've found him."

Izaya blinked at the blond man sitting in front of him, at once at a loss for words. These two had caught him off-guard and for once, he felt like he could emphasize with his client's story. For some reason, Ludwig's words had struck a chord and seemed to awaken a part of himself that had been sleeping for far too long. Suddenly, a bunch of strange and seemingly unconnected images flashed before his mind's eye…

_A small boy with short blond hair and striking blue eyes wearing lederhosen, looking up curiously at the person in front of him… A young woman with long brown hair smiling at him, holding a broom… A kind-looking old man smiling down at him and patting his head… A large wall looming in front of him as snow gathered around his ankles… A broken beer bottle left in the living room, the liquid from it slowly dripping down the wall…_

Izaya grabbed his head, feeling a headache coming on. _What the hell was that…? _

"Orihara-san?" Kiku or Japan asked, looking rather concerned. "_Daijyoubu desu ka?_"

Ludwig, on the other hand, looked none at all surprised but rather interested to Izaya's reaction. _It was as I expected… _he thought. _With some luck, he should start to regain some of his memories._

"I-I'm okay…" Izaya grunted, rubbing his temples as he reached for his glass of water. "Just a headache…"

"I bet this would again bring up your question of why we came here to search for Gilbert," Ludwig said, continuing on with their lengthy explanation of Gilbert Beilschmidt. Izaya nodded, holding his forehead. "In all truth, we knew exactly where to look for him and we really didn't need your help to locate him."

"Oh really?" Izaya snorted, now looking very annoyed. "Then why the hell did you even bother to see me?"

"As I said, we knew _exactly _where to look," the blond said and got a confused look from the informant. "We knew where Gilbert was and, if I'm not mistaken, we've already found him."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Izaya asked, now both thoroughly confused and annoyed. "If you've found him, then why, may I ask, are you still here?"

"Why?" Ludwig pointed a finger at the informant. "Because _you_ are the man we've been looking for. _You _are Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Izaya froze, his brain slowly processing everything that Ludwig had just said. Kiku looked nervously between Izaya and Ludwig. For a second, he considered telling Ludwig to calm down and back off, to give Izaya some time to fully process the fact that he wasn't the person he thought he was. After all, this was something that could be potentially soul-crushing to many and would drastically change this young man's life…

A small sound snapped Kiku out of his thoughts and he looked over to see that Izaya had hunched over, hanging his head as his shoulders shook. His breath came out in shuddering gasps, inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly. The Japanese man's eyes widened at the sight. Could Orihara Izaya be… crying?

He and Ludwig watched as the informant's body trembled, Kiku growing concerned by the minute. Before he could even consider going over and seeing if the informant was okay, Izaya raised his head, showing his face to them. Instead of tear stains on his cheeks and watery eyes, Izaya wore a wide grin as he cackled insanely, holding his sides as he did so.

"Y-you two… you had me going there!" he laughed. "Wow, personified nations? What have you two been smoking?" He paused to laugh again. "Hey, can I have some?" another fit of cackles. "Just kidding~! Oh my goodness, this is just too good! I've heard some stories before, but this one takes the cake!"

"This isn't a joke…" Ludwig growled, glaring at Izaya.

"Oh really?" Izaya smirked. "Never would have guessed otherwise…" He got to his feet, stretching his arms up to the ceiling. "But really, nice story. You two get creativity points."

"B-but… the scars…" Kiku frowned. "Isn't that proof enough?"

"For all I know, they could be injuries from something else or a really good makeup job," Izaya shrugged. "If you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave. Thanks for the nice story and…" he reached down, grabbing his ootoro. "I'll be taking this. _Ja nee~_"

"Don't you dare leave!" Ludwig snapped, seething by now. "So after all of that, you don't believe us? I told you everything about yourself and the rest of your kind! Why don't you believe me? I'm your _brother_, for God's sake!"

"I think I would remember being three hundred years old," Izaya retorted. "Not to mention, having a brother. I recommend getting your head checked. You've wasted my time but hey, thanks for treating me to lunch~! Enjoy the bill!"

And with that, Izaya was gone, the door sliding closed behind him.

Kiku looked over at his fellow nation after the informant left, frowning at the disappointed expression Ludwig wore.

"Germany-san…?"

"I'm fine," the blond answered sharply, causing Kiku to flinch. "I just thought he would remember…"

"He seemed to remember _something_," Kiku told him. "Right after you told him about himself."

"It wasn't much…" Ludwig sighed. "I would guess he only got bits and pieces. Not much else…"

"But it's a start, isn't it?"

Ludwig sighed and nodded. "You're right, Japan… He just needs some time for it to all sink in. In the meantime, let's head back to the UN…"

"B-but, Germany-san…" Kiku protested. "We were supposed to bring him with us."

"And we will… just not now," Ludwig said, getting to his feet. "Don't worry, he'll come to us when he's ready…"

**So, some clarification on the visions Izaya saw: the little boy is Germany when he was younger, the young woman is Hungary, and the old man is Old Fritz or Frederich II who was one of the king's of Prussia and, in Hetalia, is Prussia's favorite boss. Translations: "daijyoubu desu ka"- basically means "Are you okay?"**


	6. Chapter 5: Epiphany

Chapter 5

Epiphany

America watched nervously as England fumed over his tea, stirring in the milk and sugar with great ferocity. The British nation's large eyebrows were furrowed as he glared into his tea, almost as if he was trying to boil the liquid with his emerald eyes. America slowly took a sip of his coffee, watching England's every move. After all, anything could set him off at the moment…

"Uhm… England…?" America asked, deciding to grow a pair and see what was wrong. "Are you okay?"

"Can you _believe _him?" England spat and America could almost imagine steam coming out of his ears. "I mean, _really_! I tell him to do something and he does the exact opposite!"

America flinched, knowing exactly what England was talking about. Just a few days before, Germany and Japan had returned to the UN to update the rest of the nations on their findings. Everyone had congratulated them on locating Gilbert but once England asked where he was, the entire room went silent. It was then that Germany told everyone the situation with Gilbert's suppressed memories and what had happened at Russia Sushi. Needless to say, England had exploded, throwing a fit over their failure to bring Gilbert to the UN.

"England, remember what Germany said?" America asked. "Gilbert, or Izaya, doesn't remember a thing. There's no way they could have brought him along willingly."

"I know what he said, America," England glared at him, waving his spoon at the younger nation. "I don't have cotton in my ears, you know…"

"But still, what would you rather have?" America asked. "Something that people can easily turn a blind eye to or something that attracts too much attention?"

England let out a long sigh, eyes thoughtful. "We do need to keep our secret safe…"

"Right," America smiled, reaching over and taking England's hand. "I trust Germany's judgment, Arthur. After all, Gilbert _is _his brother…"

"As much as I hate to admit this, you're right…" England sighed. "I'm still worried though. We have to be the ones who find Gilbert first, remember?"

"I know…" America sighed. "It is rather risky…"

"What if something happens?" England asked, setting down his tea and putting his head in his hands. "What if someone takes Gilbert before he can make up his mind to come here? It's deeply troubling."

"Relax, Arthur," America smiled, kissing England's knuckles. "Everything is going to be fine. I bet that soon enough, Gilbert will be calling home, just you wait."

England smiled softly, seeming to relax a bit. "Alfred, why is it that you can make me feel better no matter what?"

"Because I'm a hero," the younger country smiled. "Not only that, but I'm _your _hero."

"Thank you, Alfred…" England sighed, leaning his head on America's shoulder. "I really hope you're right about all of this…"

…

A few weeks later…

Izaya hummed happily to himself as he skipped through Ikebukuro, the events that had occurred a few weeks ago far from his mind. Ever since his meeting with Ludwig and Kiku, things had gotten pretty boring pretty fast. The only clients he had received had been the usual yakuza members, amateur gang leaders, and desperate business men. Seeing as nothing exciting had happened lately, Izaya found it fit to wander Ikebukuro and possibly come across a certain human being…

No, not human being… More like "monster…"

Regardless, Izaya Orihara was up for some fun and he knew just where to get it.

_Ah, right here… _he thought, stopping in the middle of the park. _Perfect. He should be arriving in three… two… one…_

"IZAYAAAA!"

Izaya smirked to himself, side-stepping a spiral-shaped slide that had come hurtling at him. "Right on time…" he turned to face his oh-so familiar plaything. "Pleasure seeing you here, Shizu-chan~"

The blond man growled, glaring at the informant. "I thought I told you not to call me that…"

"Aw, but I like your nickname…" Izaya chuckled. "It's cute and oddly fitting for a beast like you~"

"Shut up!" Shizuo snapped, swinging his fists at the informant.

Izaya, like usual, dodged the blows and quickly drew his knife, slashing the blade across the blond's chest. This only pissed Shizuo off more, as suspected, and Izaya bolted which caused the bodyguard to follow, also as suspected. If there was anything that Izaya could say he liked about the monster, it would be just how easily Shizuo could be manipulated. He was just so predictable and Izaya just loved every second of messing with the man's mind.

As he ran from the raging beast, Izaya slipped into an alleyway, reaching a chain link fence. Using his knowledge of parkour, the informant shimmied up the fence and landed with cat-like grace on the other side. He cackled to himself as he ran, weaving in and out of various alleyways. He didn't care if he lost Shizuo or not; the chase in itself was just exhilarating. The informant glanced over his shoulder. Maybe he had lost the protozoan after all…

"IZAYA!"

Scratch that.

Izaya pressed himself against a wall as the chain link fence from earlier came hurtling at him, waded up and bent in several places. With a quick glance, he noted that Shizuo was catching up to him… and fast.

_Well, well, well… He's smarter than I expected… _he thought and waved cheerfully to his nemesis. "Yoo-hoo~! Shizu-chan~! I'm afraid you missed me yet again!"

"Bastard!" Shizuo growled, charging towards him. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Oh yes, I'm sure you will…" Izaya chuckled and bolted once more, speeding away like a cheetah.

"Damn flea!" Shizuo roared and chased after him again, looking quite like an enraged bull.

"You're never going to catch me~!" Izaya teased as he took many a sharp turn. "Face it, Shizu-chan, I am smoke through your fingers…"

The informant took a few more turns and eventually came to a dead-end. He pouted at this, unhappy with the results fate had given him. Before he could even start to think about getting himself out of this sticky situation, the entrance to the alleyway was blocked by the person who wanted to kill him most.

"Izaya-kuuun~" Shizuo almost sang, a murderous grin on his face as he approached the cornered informant. "What was that you said earlier? I'll never catch you and you're like smoke through my fingers? And yet, it seems like I've actually managed to catch the uncatchable. What do you have to say about that?"

"It does seem like I've miscalculated, doesn't it?" Izaya sighed, a grin still on his face. "However, you're the one who has made the biggest mistake… you assumed that I would remain captured."

Suddenly, Izaya leapt up onto a garbage can and grabbed onto a pipe on the wall, scaling it to climb to his escape. However, Shizuo had trained himself to be almost as quick as the informant and ran after him, reaching out with long arms. As Izaya grabbed on to the ledge of the building that formed the alley, Shizuo's fingers tightened around the hood of his jacket and with one swift pull, Izaya was off the wall and on the ground, pinned beneath the bodyguard.

"Gotcha…" Shizuo growled, smiling widely. Oh, victory felt so good!

"Well played…" Izaya grunted from underneath him. "For a protozoan…"

"Can it, asswipe."

"If you insist…" Izaya sighed. "But before I silence myself, I must warn you… you shouldn't leave yourself unguarded."

Before Shizuo could register what the flea meant, Izaya knee had connected with his manhood and while Shizuo's body withstood many injuries, the blow to that part of his body still caused a good amount of pain. Taking advantage of this, Izaya squirmed out from underneath him and darted towards the exit of the alley. More pissed off than in pain, Shizuo let out a roar and lunged at the informant, grabbing him by his jacket again and pinning him to the wall by his neck.

"What's the matter, Izaya?" the bodyguard growled. "Having a bad day?"

"I'm impressed…" Izaya choked out. "You've caught me. Are you really Shizu-chan?"

"Shut up!" Shizuo spat and tightened his grip on Izaya's throat, causing the informant to gasp for breath. "I've waited for so long to kill you… I think it's my lucky day…"

Izaya then whipped his switchblade out, trying to cut whatever part of Shizuo that he could reach to keep his neck from being snapped. He managed to cut the blond's cheek and right arm before Shizuo caught his wrist with his spare hand. He quickly turned the knife on its owner, twisting Izaya's hand so that the blade was plunged into the informant's shoulder. The howl of pain he got from the informant was more than satisfactory and made the adrenaline in his veins run faster. It was then when he knew he had the opportunity to finish off Izaya Orihara once and for all.

As his fingers tightened around Izaya's neck, Shizuo got a good look at the informant's eyes and was suddenly taken aback. Pure, unbridled fear lingered in those wide blood-red eyes, a look that screamed "I don't want to die." It was the first time in his life that the bodyguard had seen Izaya so frightened, completely in fear's grasp. The informant's fright made Shizuo stop to think. If he killed Izaya right now, he would be free of the person who made his life a living hell but then again, he would be killing him in cold blood when he had no means of defending himself. Therefore, that would make him a…

_Murderer… a monster… _Shizuo thought. _What on earth would Kasuka think…? _

A little shaken but thinking clearer, Shizuo slowly unwrapped his fingers from around Izaya's neck. The informant dropped to the ground, holding his throat as he gasped for air. He glared up at the bodyguard, who had backed away to give him some space.

"What… what the hell was that…?" Izaya gasped, sounding hoarse.

"I don't want to kill you…" Shizuo muttered, starting to turn away. "Not today…"

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

Shizuo turned back to the informant, the two of them locking eyes. Izaya glared up at him, determined to get an answer from the bodyguard. Shizuo sighed and turned away again. "Does it matter?"

"You could've killed me," Izaya said as Shizuo began to walk away. "One more squeeze and I would have left this world. But you didn't follow through… why?"

Shizuo turned to him once more, his gaze harder this time. "Because contrary to what you think, I'm not a monster."

"Could have fooled me…" Izaya muttered and touched the hilt of the knife sticking out of his shoulder, instantly flinching. "Shit…"

"Do you need help with that?"

Izaya looked up, eyebrows raised. "Did I hear you right or is the mix of losing both blood and oxygen getting to me?"

"I asked you if you need help with your shoulder," Shizuo said. "It seems like you do…"

"Let's not forget whose fault this is, hmmm?" Izaya smirked and turned his attention back to the knife. "Probably shouldn't pull it out… need to prevent more bleeding…"

"I have bandages at my apartment," Shizuo told the informant. "I don't have as much as Shinra but it may be enough…"

"Why would I go to _your_ apartment? You may try to kill me again…" Izaya spat. "That's going to need stitches…"

"Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be breathing right now…"

Izaya shrugged and then flinched at the pain in his shoulder. "You have a point… Fine. But I'm going to Shinra's immediately after."

"Alright," Shizuo nodded. "Once we get there, I'll call Celty and let her know." He crouched down in front of the injured man and held out a hand. "Do… do you need help…?"

Izaya glared at him and slapped the hand away. "I can help myself up, thank you. All I need is for you to lead me to your apartment so I can patch myself up and nothing else. Capeesh?"

"Fine…" Shizuo mumbled and began to leave, gesturing for Izaya to follow. "This way…"

Izaya followed close behind, holding his blood-stained shoulder as he walked. Why on earth was the protozoan being nice to him all of a sudden? He could have finished the informant off, right then and there, but he didn't. It made no sense, no sense at all.

"Stupid Shizu-chan…" he muttered from behind. "This is all your fault…"

Shizuo turned to face him, most likely to remind the informant that it was truly _his _fault for being such a pain in the ass, but refrained from speaking. He then walked over to the informant's side, reaching out for Izaya's arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Izaya spat, pulling his uninjured arm away.

"I'm helping you," Shizuo said. "You might be a little unsteady…"

"I assure you I'm fine," the informant hissed but Shizuo took his elbow anyways. "Stop being so nice to me…"

"I'm sorry, you know…" Shizuo said as he led Izaya to his apartment. "For hurting you…"

Izaya snorted but said nothing, focusing his eyes on the ground beneath him. They walked in silence then entire way, Shizuo's hand gently gripping Izaya's elbow as they walked along. It was… awkward to say the least. Despite how long they had known each other, neither of them knew anything about the man standing next to him. Now there they were, walking together in peace (or as much peace as possible) all because Izaya was injured. It made no sense to the informant; they _hated _each other and yet Shizuo had decided to be a Good Samaritan and help the bastard that made his life hell? This was just too many kinds of weird…

"We're here," Shizuo suddenly said, snapping Izaya out of his thoughts.

Izaya looked up to see the apartment complex, noting that while it wasn't as nice as his own, the place wasn't that bad. Shizuo led him closer to the steps that led to his apartment and then stopped, trying to figure out what to do.

"What's the matter with you, protozoan?" Izaya snorted.

"Just thinking…" Shizuo mumbled. "Should I carry you up the stairs? Since you're injured…"

"No." Izaya answered rather quickly. "I'm _fine_."

Shizuo shrugged and walked up the stairs, Izaya following behind and clutching his injured shoulder. The bodyguard turned his head every once in a while to check on the informant, to see if he hadn't fallen down the stairs yet. Once reaching his door, Shizuo unlocked it and held it open for the informant, who glared at him in response to the bodyguard's kindness.

It was then that the informant laid his eyes on the insides of the apartment. Needless to say, it was better than he expected. It was rather small and simple with little furniture. The appliances were outdated though but then again, Shizuo didn't really live on much financially. It was also surprisingly clean for someone who threw things around all day. Maybe, just maybe, Izaya had underestimated the protozoan…

"What are you gawking at, flea?" Shizuo snorted as he closed the door, figuring that if Izaya was going to rude he could be too.

"I'm impressed, Shizu-chan," Izaya said. "I must say I didn't expect you to live in this kind of apartment, as cheap and obscenely small as it is."

"Oh? What _did _you expect then?"

"Something along the lines of a slum…" Izaya smirked and Shizuo fought hard to keep from hitting him. "So then, all jokes aside, where do you keep your bandages?"

"Bathroom cabinet, first shelf…" was the gruff reply. "Do you want me to…?"

"I'm fine," Izaya insisted, glaring at the former bartender.

Shizuo shrugged and pulled a cigarette box out of his vest, lighting a smoke and inhaling deeply. Suddenly, keeping the flea alive seemed like the stupidest thing he had ever done…

Izaya snorted at the offending cancer stick and walked off to what he assumed was the protozoan's bathroom, walking into a rather small and cramped room with a small sink, toilet, and shower. He opened up the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a small box of bandages, taking out one roll. He frowned at the knife in his shoulder; this was going to hurt… Izaya pulled the knife out with a grunt of pain and quickly put pressure on the wound, ripping his sleeve off and removing the rest of his shirt before wrapping his shoulder. Looking at the wound and the amount of blood, he decided that seeing Shinra wasn't such a bad idea.

As he finished wrapping up the wound, Izaya's mind lingered back to the two crazies he had met three weeks before. Kiku and Ludwig, were their names if he remembered right. He had to admit, they were pretty creative. After all, who else could come up with such an elaborate story about personified nations? Despite it all obviously being a bunch of nonsense, Izaya had to applaud them for almost making him believe in what they said. A convincing actor was always a good actor in his book, on a stage or not.

He snorted as he continued to look back on the incident. They seemed to truly believe that _he_ was Gilbert Beilschmidt. Impossible and improbable; Izaya was Izaya was Izaya and nothing could change that. Speaking of Gilbert Beilschmidt…

Izaya reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture that Ludwig had given him when they first met. He studied the face of the smiling man, looking at the silver hair and red eyes. Gilbert Beilschmidt looked horribly familiar but Izaya had no recollection of the man, like someone he had met a long time ago but hadn't left much of a mark on his mind.

_Gilbert Beilschmidt… _he thought, staring intently at the albino man's photograph. _Who are you…?_

The informant sighed and put the photo back in his pocket. Why on earth had he kept in the first place? It wasn't as if it were something precious to him… but he had acted as if it was. When Ludwig left it in his office, Izaya felt like he had to pick the picture up and keep it close. But… why?

Izaya shook his head; needless to think about now… He pulled on what remained of his shirt and slipped his jacket on over it, frowning at the blood that had collected on the fur lining. That was going to take _weeks _to get out…

"Hey, flea!" Shizuo shouted from outside. "Are you done in there or not? I need some bandages too…"

"Patience, Shizu-chan~" Izaya called back, trying to suppress his annoyance. "You're wounds aren't as bad as mine, after all…"

"Are you done?"

"Well, just a little…"

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and an ornery blond bodyguard was glaring down at Izaya, blood soaking his white sleeve. He passed his hazel eyes over the informant and pulled back Izaya's coat to get a look at his shoulder.

"H-hey!" Izaya protested as Shizuo looked at the bandages. "Hands off the merchandise!"

"You're fine," the blond snorted and went to move the informant out of the way. "Get out. It's too crowded in here…"

"Fine then, Shizu-chan," Izaya sighed, taking this as his cue to leave. "I'll leave your little apartment and go to Shinra's, if that's fine with you…"

As he walked out, Shizuo suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the bathroom.

"Dammit, what do you want _now_?" Izaya snarled as Shizuo started to finger his hair. "I thought it told you not to touch me…"

"Your… hair…"

"Yes, it's hair," the informant snorted, batting the blond's hand away. "I'm amazed by your discovery…"

"No, your hair is different," Shizuo frowned, perplexed. "Your roots are silver…"

Izaya paused. _Silver…? _He raced back into the bathroom, pushing Shizuo aside, and started to inspect his black locks. His fingers reached his part and he tilted his head down to get a better view in the mirror. Sure enough, his roots had turned silver.

He slowly backed away from the mirror, his frame shaking slightly. Silver? Why was his hair turning silver? There was no way that could be possible… Izaya thought back to the photo; silver… there was only one person he could remember that had silvery hair. A heavy weight sank into his stomach as a thought occurred to him: maybe Kiku and Ludwig weren't lying after all… He quickly exited the bathroom, pushing past Shizuo once more.

"Flea!" the bodyguard called after him, grabbing his hand. "Izaya! What the hell are you doing?"

"I… I need to leave…" Izaya said, swallowing hardly. "So please, let me go…"

"What was that back there?" Shizuo asked in a demanding voice. "You looked like you were going to have a heart attack… and what's with your hair?"

"Just let go of me!" Izaya snapped, tearing his hand away. "It… it can't be true… Am I what they say I am?"

"What the hell are you mumbling about, flea?" Shizuo snorted.

Izaya turned to face him, his red eyes wide with fear. The blond was surprised; in all the years he had known the flea, he had never thought the man could show true fear. "I… I ran away… from something… and hid… and forgot… but now, I remember… bits and pieces… but…" he paused, his eyes growing less frantic and becoming dull as his eyelids covered half of his ruby orbs. "I see… I see now… I am that, aren't I?"

Before Shizuo couldn't even question what was going on, Izaya collapsed in a mass of black clothing. The blond, showing a unique amount of concern, rushed to the informant's side and checked his vitals.

"First I almost kill you and then you go nuts and pass out…" Shizuo sighed, shaking his head. "You'd better be happy you're still alive, flea." He picked up the unconscious informant, Izaya's limp body light in his arms. "Let's get you to Shinra's…"

**I've noticed that I like to beat Izaya up in a bunch of my fanfictions... Maybe it's me getting revenge for him being such a bastard near the end of the series... Anywho, hope you all liked this chapter and please review!**


	7. Chapter 6: Ningen

**Here it is! I'm sorry for the long wait but things got really busy since school is right around the corner again. x.x Luckily, I got this done just in time! I hope you all like this chapter and please review! Note: ningen is human in Japanese.**

Chapter 6

Ningen

_Izaya slowly opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. What had just happened…? The last thing he remembered was passing out in Shizuo's apartment. Everything else was a blur. He tried to recall everything that had happened up until he had passed out. He fought with Shizuo, almost got killed, went to the protozoan's apartment to get patched up, the damn protozoan mentioned his hair being… silver._

Now I remember… _he thought with an inward sigh. _Then there was something about Gilbert…

_Ah yes, that was right. He had come to the conclusion that Ludwig and Kiku were right after all. But then again, it made no sense at all. He didn't have any memory of being immortal but instead only had memories of when he was a child. The answer was clear but at the same time wasn't._

_ Deciding that thinking too much about the matter would be damaging to his superior brain, Izaya let out a sigh and sat up, looking around so he could get familiar with his surroundings. Much to his surprise, there wasn't much to get familiar with. Everything around him was dark, never-ending and infinite. He blinked, surprised. Shouldn't he be at either Shizuo's or Shinra's…?_

_ "Where am I…?" he asked aloud, looking around in confusion._

_ "I'm glad you asked," a voice rang out from the shadows._

_ Izaya scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting around as he tried to find the owner of the mysterious yet familiar voice. _

_ "Relax, it's only me…" the voice said and a man stepped out of the shadows._

_ Izaya's eyes widened as the man revealed himself. Silver hair, red eyes… The man standing before him was none other than Gilbert Beilschmidt._

…

Living in Ikebukuro, one can expect many a thing that would be considered strange to other. After all, Ikebukuro was a special place that was known for a man with super-strength, a crafty informant, a colorless and invisible gang, and, most of all, the Black Rider. Strange things were expected by all those who lived in that city and underground doctor Shinra Kishitani was no exception. After all, he was friends with the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro and the dangerous informant… not to mention he lived with the urban legend known as the Black Rider.

So when he heard a knock on his door, Shinra expected one of two things: either his love Celty had returned from searching for her head or one of his destructive friends got seriously injured by the other. Right now, he was betting on the latter… but hoping for the former.

"Hello? Celty?" he called, opening the door to reveal Shizuo on the other side. "Oh, Shizuo-kun… Hello. What do you…?" his eyes finally focused on the limp form of Izaya in Shizuo's arms. "…What did you two do _this_ time…?"

"This isn't because we fought," Shizuo told him and Shinra rose an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. "I'll fill you in on the details inside…"

Shinra nodded and moved aside to let the bodyguard in. "Lay him down on the couch…"

Shizuo nodded and set Izaya down gently, making sure to mind his head. Shinra joined him in due time, checking the informant's vitals.

"He seems to be okay…" Shinra said. "Now, tell me what happened…"

Shizuo then told him about how the usual chance between the rivals had gotten out of hand, ending with Shizuo almost killing Izaya. He also recalled how he had taken the informant to his apartment to get him patched up. "That was when he started to act strange… I just told him his hair was different and he went crazy and passed out."

"Different how?"

"His roots were silver," Shizuo said. "It… it was really weird…"

Shinra frowned and touched Izaya's head, looking at the informant's roots. Sure enough, they were silver. "Strange… There's no reason they should be like this…"

Suddenly, the sound of a motorbike reached their ears and Shinra popped up from Izaya's side.

"Celty's home," the doctor said and turned to the blond next to him. "Watch him and let me know if he wakes up."

Shizuo nodded and crouched near Izaya's unconscious form, watching the informant's face. Strange as it was, he found that Izaya looked rather peaceful while asleep.

_That's probably the only time when he doesn't cause any trouble… _the blond thought with a sigh. "I swear, Shinra better find out what's wrong with you so I can kick your ass again…"

Speaking of the underground doctor, Shinra came running back to the couch, pushing his glasses up as he continued to examine Izaya. "Thanks, Shizuo…"

"No problem," Shizuo said as looked up to see Celty walking in. "Hi, Celty."

'Good afternoon, Shizuo,' Celty typed on her PDA and then spotted Izaya. 'What did you two do now?'

"Long story short, they tried to kill each other again," Shinra said as he pulled Izaya's jacket back to look at his shoulder. "Shizuo, what did you say happened after he saw his hair?"

"He just started babbling about something," the blond sighed. "Saying things like 'it can't be true' and 'I am that, aren't I?' It was just too weird…"

Shinra rose an eyebrow. "Strange… Did he mention anything else?"

"He did say something about running away from something and hiding…" Shizuo said. "And that he had forgotten something but recently remembered it. But the entire time, it was like he was questioning his humanity…"

Shinra and Celty exchanged concerned looks.

'Maybe he's just not feeling well…?' Celty guessed.

"He seemed just fine when we fought," Shizuo frowned. "I doubt that's it."

"Curious…" Shinra muttered. "There isn't much that Izaya freaks out about and whatever this was, it must have been pretty serious. Maybe you're not too far off the mark, Shizuo."

"With what? About him not being human?"

"Yes," the doctor said. "I'm going to get a blood sample from him, just to figure out what's wrong. Maybe he collapsed because of some sort of illness or because he lost too much blood. Whatever the case, I'll get to the bottom of it."

'And his shoulder?' the dullahan asked, looking at Izaya's wound with concern.

"I'll have to stitch that up while I obtain the sample," Shinra said, getting up to go fetch some supplies. "We're going to have to move him… Shizuo, can you move him to the spare room? There should be a bed in there."

The blond nodded and scooped Izaya up from the couch, carrying him bridal style into Shinra's spare room. Celty followed him in and watched him set the informant down gently, the dullahan looking rather thoughtful.

'Shizuo, if you don't mind me asking, are you worried?' she asked him.

The blond paused, staring at her with an unreadable expression. He blinked and then turned away, locking his hazel eyes on the informant's limp form. "No… Not at all…"

…

_Izaya stared in shock at the person standing in front of him. Gilbert Beilschmidt…? No, it couldn't be._

_ "You?" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"_

_ Gilbert paused, looking slightly confused. "Why are you so surprised…? Oh right, you don't know yet…"_

_ "Know what?" Izaya asked cautiously. "And where the hell am I?"_

_ "Woah, woah! Slow down!" Gilbert said, raising his hands defensively. "One question at a time, kay? Now, where to start…?"_

_ "How about at where we are?" the informant asked, glaring at the albino. _

_ "Starting with the easy questions, I see…" Gilbert smiled. "We're in your mind."_

_ Izaya blinked at the albino, obviously unconvinced. "Okay… so I'm dreaming…"_

_ "Then why would I be here?"_

_ "That damned little brother of yours is trying to find you and I can't get a single bit of information on you," Izaya reasoned. "So my constant guessing and almost-obsession with you is causing me to dream of you because my mind can't leave it alone."_

_ "Good point," Gilbert nodded. "But if this were a dream, could I do this?" He reached out and grabbed Izaya's wrist, twisting it enough to get a wince out of the informant._

_ "So? You can feel pain in a dream," Izaya countered. "That doesn't prove that it's real…"_

_ "Then what about this?" Gilbert asked and applied more pressure to Izaya's wrist, causing the informant to hiss in pain._

_ "Someone in the real world could be doing this," the informant growled, glaring at the albino. "No matter how much pain you inflict on me, you're still a dream…"_

_ "Really then?" the albino rose an eyebrow. "Then who of the real world is squeezing your wrist, Izaya?"_

_ The informant furrowed his brow and thought back to what happened before he passed out. He was in Shizuo's apartment so maybe Shizuo…? No, Shizuo was planning on getting him to Shinra's afterwards… so maybe he was at Shinra's?_

_ "Shinra…?"_

_ "Checking your pulse?" Gilbert snorted, almost as if he had read Izaya's mind. "I doubt it. Why would he be applying so much pressure while checking your pulse?" _

_ Izaya pulled his wrist out of Gilbert's grasp, rubbing the area where Gilbert had grabbed him. As he glared at the albino, he noticed that Gilbert was clutching his own wrist, wincing slightly as he touched it. _

Strange… _Izaya thought. _How did he get hurt…? _"So let's just assume that this isn't a dream and you're real…"_

_ Gilbert rose an eyebrow. "Oh?"_

_ "This is all hypothetical, so don't start thinking you've sold your story," Izaya snorted. "If this is real and we really are in my mind, then what the hell are you doing here?"_

_ "Finally, he asks the interesting questions…" Gilbert smiled. "Let's just put it in a way I think you'll understand…" he jabbed a thumb at himself, his face becoming eerily serious. "_Ich bin Izaya Orihara._"_

_ Izaya's eyes widened and he took a step back, in shock. "That's… that's impossible! _I'm_ Izaya Orihara!"_

_ "No, you're not," Gilbert said simply. "I'm Izaya Orihara and you're Gilbert Beilschmidt."_

_ "What…? What the hell?" Izaya gasped, completely and totally confused. "That should be the other way around, if I'm not mistaken…"_

_ "That's true," Gilbert said, walking closer to the informant. "But what I just said is also true. You are you but you are also me. I am me but I am also you. Does that make sense?"_

_ "…No…" the informant said. "No it doesn't…"_

_ "Let's just put it this way," Gilbert sighed, realizing that he was getting nowhere. "Germany and Japan were right."_

_ Izaya blinked, mouthing Gilbert's words until it clicked. "Are you suggesting that I am really the incarnation of Prussia?"_

_ "Were," Gilbert corrected. "The country of Prussia no longer exists. We are now nothing but immortals with no purpose."_

_ "That makes no sense at all!" Izaya protested. "I can't be you! I don't have memories dating back all the way to the 1700s! I remember being human and having a human family. I'm not you!"_

_ "Then where did all of those memories come from?" Gilbert asked, circling around the informant. "The memories of the little boy? The woman with the broom? How about the old man or maybe the wall? The broken beer bottle?"_

_ Izaya blinked at the albino. "How did you know…?"_

_ "Like I said, I'm you," Gilbert said, locking eyes with Izaya. "We are the same person."_

_ "It's… it's still impossible…" Izaya sighed, looking away. It was then that a thought occurred to him. "But if I'm you, why do I have memories of being younger and living life as a human?"_

_ Gilbert frowned, looking away from the informant. "I'm not sure, actually… Our memories have been suppressed for a long time. The only reason why we're here is because what you remembered awakened me. But there's more… there's so much more and all we need to do is remember it all." He grabbed Izaya's shoulders, a desperate gleam in his eyes. "Please, you have to find Ludwig again… you have to find our brother!"_

_ Izaya quickly shoved the albino off of him. "Why in the world should I do that?"_

_ "Because he's our brother," Gilbert said firmly and focused his eyes on the ground. "I've kept him waiting long enough…"_

_ Izaya's eyes softened and he couldn't help but feel a small twinge of guilt. Wait… Guilt? What the hell was he feeling guilty for? This had nothing to do with him! But so far, what Gilbert had told him seemed pretty valid (well, somewhat) and helped explain those damn memories that kept popping up…_

_ "You've been catching bits and pieces of our old life, haven't you?" Gilbert asked suddenly and Izaya nodded. "You don't know what they mean, do you?"_

_ "Do you?"_

_ Gilbert smiled sadly and shook his head. "This is frustrating to us, now isn't it? We're not getting answers right away… which is why you need to find Ludwig again. He most likely has the answers to our questions. Promise me you'll find him as soon as possible, Izaya."_

_ "I…" Izaya started, staring at the other aspect of his mind. He wanted so much to say no and forget about Ludwig and the other personified nations but there was something that kept him from refusing. Something was telling him to contact Ludwig again and as he looked at the image of the man he had once been, he found it hard to say no. "I will… I promise I'll contact him…"_

_ "Thank you," Gilbert sighed, looking very tired. "Hmmm… I think it's almost time…"_

_ "Time?" Izaya asked, looking confused. "What do you mean…?"_

_ "It's almost time for you to wake up," Gilbert told him. "At least I got to talk to you. It really has been too long…" Gilbert turned away and started to leave, shrinking rapidly into the darkness. "We'll talk again soon, I hope. For now, I wish you luck. _Auf wiedersehen_!"_

_ "W-wait!" Izaya called after the former-nation. "Come back! You need to tell me more!"_

_ "I can't tell you more than I already know, Orihara," Gilbert said, turning back to face him. "The rest you'll have to figure out on your own. For now, I recommend that you wake up."_

_ Gilbert's last words echoed in the informant's mind and Izaya felt himself falling, plummeting down into nothing…_

…

"Dammit…" Shizuo snorted as he watched over Izaya's unconscious body. "What's taking him so long?"

'Testing the sample will take some time, Shizuo,' Celty told him, trying to keep the short-fused blond at ease. 'Shinra said so already…'

"I know but…" Shizuo grunted. "I want him to figure out what's wrong with the flea so he can fix him. Then I won't have to worry about it anymore…"

The smoke coming out of Celty's neck jittered, imitating laughter. 'You sound like a child with a broken toy.'

Shizuo muttered something under his breath and turned away from the dullahan, glaring out the window. This made Celty chuckle a bit more; despite being a grown man, Shizuo had an adorable tendency to act like a child every now and then. However, Shizuo had brought up a valid point; Shinra _was _taking quite some time with that blood sample…

Celty tapped Shizuo on the shoulder and typed something onto her PDA. 'I'm going to go see what's taking Shinra so long. Please don't kill Izaya in his sleep.'

"I won't," Shizuo sighed. "It wouldn't be honorable."

Celty nodded and walked to Shinra's lab, opening the door to find the doctor bent over his work in frustration. As she entered, Shinra's head popped up in surprise.

"Oh, Celty!" he gasped. "Shizuo's getting impatient, isn't he?"

'Yes,' Celty responded. 'Is there anything wrong with Izaya's blood sample? Is he sick?'

"No…" Shinra sighed. "He's not sick… but there is something unusual about him, something I didn't really expect."

'What's that?'

"It's his DNA," Shinra said. "I've seen this before. If I remember right, my father had been studying a strand like this. It looks like a normal human being's but there are certain things out of place. But it makes no sense… I would never expect for Izaya to have this kind of DNA in the first place…"

'Shinra, I don't understand…' Celty asked. 'What are you saying?'

Shinra sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing them on his coat as he turned to look at the dullahan. "Izaya isn't human."


	8. Chapter 7: Decisions, Decisions

**Oh my goodness, I am so sorry that this is so late! School started up again and it seemed like the inspiration was sucked out of me. DX But after a week or so of slamming my head against the keyboard, I got it done! =D Yaaay! I hope you guys like this chapter and thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

Chapter 7

Decisions, Decisions

"That's ridiculous…" Shizuo snorted once Shinra told him about Izaya's DNA. "He may be the scum of the earth but he's still human."

"Shizuo…" Shinra frowned. "It does seem to make some sense, doesn't it? First he freaks out in your apartment and then this? I don't think that's coincidence…"

The blond glared at his friend, reluctant to swallow the information Shinra was trying to feed him. "Fine…" he sighed. "I'll just pretend for the time being that what you're saying is completely true. What does he know? It's obvious that we know next to nothing about the possibility of him not being human. When he wakes up, we can talk to him and see what he knows."

'But what if he isn't even aware of it?' Celty asked. 'He may know nothing…'

"I think we should talk to him about it whether he knows or not," Shinra said. "He may need our help…"

"Tch…" Shizuo scoffed, looking away from Izaya's unconscious form. "If you're going to help the flea, don't expect me to be in on it…"

"Don't worry," Shinra sighed. "I already know you well enough by now…"

Suddenly, a small groan came from Izaya's lips and all three of them turned their attention on him. A ruby-colored eye slowly slid open, the pupil dilating and contracting as it got used to the light. The informant blinked a few more times and looked around, taking in his surroundings.

"I'm back…" he sighed and spotted Shinra. "Shinra… there you are… What happened?"

"You passed out in Shizuo's apartment and he brought you here," Shinra explained. "I patched up your shoulder for you too. It should be as good as new."

"Ah…" Izaya murmured, touching his shoulder gingerly. "Thanks…"

Shizuo shot Shinra a look and the doctor nodded; it was time to have a talk with the informant. "Izaya, I noticed that your roots are… different."

The informant froze, eyes widening slightly. He suddenly remembered the promise he had to keep to Gilbert… no, to himself.

"I also ran a test on your blood," Shinra continued. "Izaya, is there something you haven't told us? Is there anything you think would set you apart from the rest of humanity?"

Izaya abruptly sat up, curling his hands into fists. "I…" he started but found his mouth was dry. He quickly cleared his throat and swung his legs off of the bed. "I have to go…"

"Y-you can't!" Shinra protested as the informant got to his feet. "I may have stitched up your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get some rest!" Despite his words, Izaya began to walk towards the door, eyes blank. "Izaya, listen to me!" he grabbed his friend's arm, keeping him from moving any further. "There's something you're keeping from us. Please, Izaya, tell us! I promise nothing bad will happen to you… just answer this question for me. Are… are you human?"

Izaya's crimson eyes widened as the sudden feeling of his skin prickling set in. Something was telling him that this could become dangerous and he had to get out of this as soon as possible. He quickly pulled his arm away from Shinra and almost ran to the door. "I'm sorry, Shinra, but I really have to leave…"

The informant ran out of the apartment in a flash, Shinra chasing after him. "Izaya!"

Shizuo and Celty exchanged glances and quickly followed the doctor. They found Shinra standing in the doorway of the apartment, a distressed expression on his face.

'Shinra…?' Celty asked in concern, touching Shinra's shoulder.

"He's gone…" Shinra sighed. "I should have guessed he would have reacted this way. Funny, though… When he's cornered like that, he usually tries to bluff his way out of it…"

Shizuo glanced at the worried-looking doctor and then at the doorway that Izaya had left through. With a heavy sigh, he walked past Shinra and Celty, exiting the apartment.

"Shizuo…?" Shinra asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get the flea," Shizuo snorted. "You need to talk to him, don't you?"

"Yes, but Shizuo…"

"I'll go get him," Shizuo said and left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

Celty cast a concerned look at the door and turned to look at Shinra, who was massaging his temples in distress.

'Shinra…?'

"It's okay, Celty… I'm just cursed with a never-ending head-ache caused by those two…" Shinra sighed. "I just hope he doesn't bring Izaya back in a body bag…"

…

Izaya walked along the streets of Ikebukuro that led back to Shinjuku, his hood pulled up over his head. Gilbert's words from earlier echoed in the back of his mind, constantly haunting him as he walked on. And what was that back at Shinra's? The doctor had taken a blood sample…? He gingerly touched his patched up shoulder; there was a lot of blood for the doctor to take, now wasn't there? What he didn't understand was how he reacted to Shinra's questioning. He usually kept a level-head but when the doctor was pushing him, all he wanted to do was get out of there.

_Why though? _he asked himself. _I don't usually want to run away and hide, especially not from Shinra of all people. So why now…? _He paused and pressed his back up against a wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. _I feel like there's something I've forgotten… _He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his phone, staring blankly at the touch-screen. He could call Ludwig or Kiku right now if he wanted and tell them about how Gilbert had contacted him… but he didn't have a phone number from either of them.

"Dammit…" Izaya hissed and put his phone back into his pocket, his fingers brushing something else in his coat. He paused and pulled the object out, seeing it to be the picture of Gilbert with Ludwig or rather, a picture of _himself_ with Ludwig. He studied the picture for at least a minute, wondering how the silver-haired immortal man in the picture could be him. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his coat to put the picture away but spotted something on the back of the photo. He turned it over and instantly, his eyes widened; a phone number.

_So they were expecting me to call… _he thought and brought out his phone again, punching in the number.

The phone rang a few times until a familiar voice came on the other line. "_Moshi-moshi…_"

"Hello… I'm speaking to Kiku, correct?" Izaya asked, his voice empty of emotion. "This is Izaya Orihara."

There was a slight pause, maybe out of surprise. "_Ah, Orihara-san… It's nice to hear from you again. Is there any reason why you've called?_"

"I need to talk to you and Ludwig," Izaya said. "It's about…" he dropped his voice to a whisper. "It's about Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"_…I see…_" Kiku murmured. "_Thank you, Orihara-san. I'll speak with Ludwig-san right away._"

"Th-thank you, Kiku…" Izaya sighed. "This… actually means a lot to me…"

"_Don't worry, Orihara-san,_" Kiku said, a smile in his voice. "_By the way, do you need anything else, Gilbert-san?_"

Izaya paused at the usage of the former-nation's name. "N-no…"

"_Then I shall see you soon, Gilbert-san,_" Kiku said. "Sayonara _for now_."

"_Sayonara…_" Izaya said, his voice barely a whisper as he hung up. "And please… don't call me by that name…"

…

"Dammit… stupid flea…" Shizuo growled as he walked out of Shinra's apartment complex. "If only he could stay still, I'd be able to catch up to him… Stupid flea…"

The blond glanced around and started heading in the general direction of Shinjuku, where Izaya would most likely be going. Soon enough, Shizuo spotted the hooded figure of the informant leaning against a nearby wall. He was talking in low tones, most likely on the phone, and didn't seem to be acting like his normal flea-self.

_Who's he talking to…? _Shizuo wondered as he got closer, catching snippets of the conversation. _Whatever it is, the flea doesn't seem to like it…_

"Th-thank you, Kiku…" he heard the informant sigh. "This really means a lot to me…"

_Kiku…? Who the hell is Kiku…?_

Izaya exchanged a few more words with whoever he was talking to and finally said goodbye, hanging up. Suddenly, he hung his head and wrapped his arms around himself, quivering slightly. "Please… don't call me by that name…"

Shizuo narrowed his hazel eyes and decided it was time to act. "Oi, flea…"

Izaya whipped around to face him, shocked at Shizuo's appearance. "Wh-what the hell are you doing here?"

"You were rude, you know," Shizuo snorted. "Shinra was asking you some questions and you just ran off."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Izaya snorted.

"I'm taking you back," Shizuo stated, grabbing Izaya's arm. "Come along like you're supposed to and I won't have to carry you all the way."

"L-let go of me!" Izaya protested as Shizuo proceeded to drag him back to Shinra's. "I'm not going back there, you stupid protozoan!"

"Why not?" Shizuo questioned, stopping and turning to face the informant. "Why did you run off when Shinra was asking you those questions? Is it because they're true? Are you really not human?"

Izaya stared at him in shock and then looked at the ground, fists tightening.

"And what was that phone call about?" the blond continued. "It seems rather suspicious that you're calling somebody after getting questioned like that… So tell me, Izaya… Is it true? Are you not human?" The informant murmured something he couldn't hear. "Speak up, louse… I can't hear a damn thing you're saying."

"I don't have to answer to _you_!" Izaya snapped, glaring up at Shizuo. "You're nothing to me and I refuse to sob my life-story out to you. I'm in the middle of an identity crisis right now and I sure as hell won't waste my time on stupid questions like the ones you and Shinra have in mind!"

Shizuo raised his eyebrows. "Identity crisis…?"

Izaya blinked, realizing what he said, and quickly pulled his arm away from the blond, speeding away in a matter of seconds.

Instead of throwing something at the flea like he would usually do, Shizuo stared at the retreating man as he thought things over. What on earth did Izaya mean by all of that? There was something strange going on with the flea and right then and there, Shizuo decided that he was going to find out.

…

Miles away in Kyoto, Japan set down his cell phone with a heavy sigh. So Izaya had realized who he truly was… The Asian country reached into his desk and pulled out a framed photograph. The picture was taken in the 1940's and depicted the Axis Powers plus Gilbert when he was still Prussia, Italy and Gilbert with bright smiles while Germany and Japan offered gentle smiles to the camera. Japan found himself smiling softly at the picture, feeling slightly nostalgic.

"I hope to see you again soon, my friend…" he sighed and grabbed his phone again, speed-dialing Germany.

"_Hello?_" the German answered.

"Good afternoon, Germany-san," Japan greeted his friend. "I have some news about Orihara-san."

"_What is it?_" Germany asked urgently.

"He called me today," Japan told him. "He wants to talk to us again."

"_Is it about his identity?_"

"I believe so," Japan said. "He said he wanted to talk about Gilbert so I suspect that's the matter."

"_I see…_" Germany muttered, sounding thoughtful. "_I want this dealt with as soon as possible. Tell him to expect us in a couple of days._"

"I shall," Japan nodded. "I can tell you're excited, Ludwig-san."

"_Am I that easy to read…?_" Germany let out a small chuckle. "_Yes, Kiku, I am… excited. After all these years of wondering, I can finally bring Gilbert home._"


	9. Chapter 8: Take Me Home

Chapter 8

Take Me Home

Shinra looked up from his tea as Shizuo walked back into the apartment, looking a little more peeved than before. The blond let out a long sigh and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it.

"Ah, Shizuo, you've returned," Shinra smiled over his mug. "I'm guessing you weren't able to bring Izaya back…?"

"No…" Shizuo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He bolted when I tried to drag him back."

"I guess I could always send Celty to find him… but he would expect that," Shinra sighed, pushing up his glasses. "I'm really concerned about him though… He seemed really frightened when I tried to get him to stay. That's just not like him at all."

"Mmm…" Shizuo grunted, taking his sun-glasses off and hanging them on his collar. "You know, he was talking to someone when I tried to bring him back. It was only on the phone but it was suspicious. It just seemed weird that right after we questioned him about his humanity, he ran off and called someone."

"Hmmm… You're right…" Shinra muttered thoughtfully. "That is rather strange…"

"Not to mention he yelled at me before he ran off," Shizuo frowned. "He said something about an identity crisis…"

"Oh?" Shinra rose an eyebrow. "Then he _has _to be hiding something…" There was the sudden sound of a pop-melody and the doctor pulled out his phone, answering it with a quick, "_Moshi-moshi_! Oh, dad! I didn't expect you to call…" he put his hand over the mouth-piece, looking at Shizuo. "Excuse me for a second, Shizuo; I have to take this…" He rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen, blabbering on and on to his father.

Shizuo sighed once again, hanging his head over the back of the couch. It was then that Celty walked in from the kitchen, shaking her head (or lack thereof) when she saw him.

'Oh, you're back,' she said. 'No luck, I'm guessing?'

Shizuo shook his head. "He bolted. I'm sure Shinra will fill you in on the details but I think he's right about Izaya."

'About him not being human?'

Shizuo nodded. "Damn flea… He just has to make things difficult, doesn't he? I need to figure it out…"

Celty paused, seeming to be confused. 'And how will you do that?'

"I'll go find him and interrogate the bastard," Shizuo snorted, picking himself up off the couch. "I'll see you two later. Tell Shinra bye for me…"

'W-wait! I don't think that's a good idea…' Celty protested but Shizuo was already out the door by the time she typed the message out. The dullahan's shoulders sagged and she threw her PDA down on the couch. Sometimes, that man was just so stubborn…

"Two days from now, you say?" Shinra was still talking on his phone. "Okay then… Thanks for letting me know, dad. Bye." He hung up the phone and sat down next to Celty with a small sigh.

'Who was that?'

"My father," Shinra told her. "He's coming to visit."

'Joy…'

"Oh, come on, Celty! He's not that bad!" the doctor assured her. "He's a pretty nice guy once you get to know him! He won't be that much of a bother, I promise!"

The dullahan's shoulders sagged, most likely in a sigh, and she slowly typed up a response. 'Alright… but he's not allowed anywhere _near _your dissection tools, got it?'

"Of course," Shinra chuckled, taking Celty's hand in his own and kissing it. "Everything's going to be just fine."

Though she refused to say it, the dullahan couldn't help but listen to the voice in her head that told her that things were going to be the exact opposite of what Shinra said they would be.

…

Two Days Later…

Izaya paced nervously around his apartment, hands and legs shaking. Today was the day that Ludwig and Kiku would be arriving to talk to him about what he really was. Finally, he would be getting some answers… but at what cost? What else did they want with him? Would they want him to leave and go back to Germany with Ludwig? He stopped and started to try to calm himself once he noticed he was hyperventilating.

"What's wrong with me…?" he sighed, slowly sinking onto his couch. "I should be calm about this… Yes…" he took a deep breath. "I am calm…"

As he waited, he continued to tell himself that lie as well as tell himself that nothing was going to change. _Lies, lies, lies!_ After today, Izaya knew that his life would do a complete 180 degree spin and would never be the same.

_Am I ready for this…? _he thought, looking at his shaking hands. _Am I really ready for what they might tell me…?_

A small voice in the back of his mind told him he would be just fine. Izaya took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, silently thanking the part of him that was Gilbert. Once he calmed down, there was a knock at his door and immediately, his heart rate skyrocketed. Izaya once again forced himself to be calm as he stood to answer the door and pulled the door open, ready to meet his fate.

"_Konnichiwa, _Orihara-san," Kiku smiled once he saw the informant. "It's nice to see you again. Mind if we come in?"

"_D-douzou…_" Izaya said, motioning for them to come in. As Kiku walked past, the informant slowly shifted his eyes to the tall blond man behind him, unsure if he could face the man who was most likely his estranged brother. Blond hair, blue eyes, and glasses…

Wait, glasses?

Izaya blinked at the man who had accompanied Kiku into the informant's apartment. This man wasn't Ludwig; this was some strange Western acquaintance of the Japanese man that Izaya had never seen before.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Orihara," the blond man beamed, shaking Izaya's hand as the other man stared at him in confusion. "Well, actually, we've met before but you don't remember that, now do you?"

Izaya blinked at the strange man, who he suspected was American judging by the accent, and turned slowly to Kiku, completely and totally confused.

"Orihara-san, this is my friend Alfred F Jones," Kiku said, introducing the two. "Ludwig-san was unable to come up due to some issues happening in his country. Alfred-san was the next best choice."

"Ah, I see…" Izaya said, surprised to feel a bit disappointed that Ludwig hadn't come as well. "Is… is he like you and Ludwig?"

"Yessiree!" Alfred grinned, blue eyes sparkling. "The United States of America at your service!"

The informant only blinked in response.

"Shall we begin to discuss the matters at hand?" Kiku asked politely.

"Y-yes," Izaya nodded, backing slowly away from the hyperactive American. Before he went to sit down, he paused as a thought occurred to him. "I… I don't really do this often but… do you two want anything to drink…?"

"Yes please," Kiku nodded with a smile. "Tea for me."

"I'll just have some water," Alfred grinned as he sat on the couch.

Izaya nodded and went into the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove. Once there, he shook his head and rubbed his temples.

"What the hell was that…?" he hissed to himself as the water started to boil. "I don't normally do that for people I barely know…" As he grabbed a cup and filled it with water, a thought occurred to him once more. _Maybe it's because at one time, I didn't consider them strangers…_

With a long sigh, he pressed his back against the wall and slid down into a sitting position, head nested in his arms until the shrill whistle of the tea kettle reached his ears and left no other thought in his mind.

…

Celty had to mentally prepare herself when the doorbell rang. Her shoulders sagged when Shinra ran out from his study and slid to a stop at the door, a large smile on his face.

"Hello, dad!" the young doctor smiled after opening the door. "You came earlier than I expected…"

_Can he leave earlier too…? _Celty asked herself, smoke swirling out of her neck in distress.

"Well, of course I did," Shingen Kishitani said as he walked in and took of his shoes, his voice muffled by the gas mask he wore. "I couldn't keep my son and his ethereal bride waiting forever!"

'Flattery will get you nowhere,' Celty typed onto her PDA, shoving the device in the general direction of the strange doctor.

"Now, Celty dear, I can't read that from over here," Shingen chuckled. "Silly girl…" He moved his head out of the way of an in-coming pillow. "Shinra, as my son, I am rather concerned about her temper. Are you sure she'll treat you well?"

"She will," Shinra smiled. "I know she will because I know she likes me. You on the other hand…"

"I'm glad to see that you appreciate me…" Shingen sighed as he walked into the living room. "Well, then Celty, let's greet each other like civilized people. It's nice to see you again, Celty. How are you?"

'I wish I could say the same to you,' the dullahan replied. 'But I am doing fine. Thanks for asking.'

"So rude…" Shingen sighed. "Well, I best not waste my time… Shinra, where shall I be sleeping for the next week?"

"Glad you asked," the younger doctor smiled. "It's close enough to my room, just in case you need something. Let me take you there so you can get unpacked."

Much to Celty's relief, Shinra led his father away to the guestroom, leaving her by herself. Taking this opportunity, Celty grabbed her helmet and left a note for Shinra, letting him know she was going out for some fresh air.

From inside the guestroom, Shingen's ears were able to pick up the audible sound of her motorcycle leaving. "I'm guessing she didn't like my company…"

"Well, you _did _steal her head," Shinra sighed. "That's not a great impression to leave on your future daughter-in-law, you know…"

Shingen stared at the other for a bit and then sighed, shaking his head. "So you two are still an item, huh? I should have never let you dissect her…"

"Speaking of dissections, Celty told me you're not allowed anywhere near my lab."

"Oh, does she think I'm going to pull a fast one on her?" the gas-mask wearing doctor snorted. "Talk about not having faith in someone…"

"She's going to think what she's going to think…" Shinra sighed. "You must be hungry from traveling all the way over here. Do you want something to eat?"

"Of course, my dear son," Shingen said, putting his hands on his hips in a dramatic fashion. "I'm so glad you're able to recognize the needs of your poor father and help him out as best as you can!"

"…I'll just go ahead and make some instant ramen…"

"Shinra!" his father scolded, following him as the younger doctor left the room. "What kind of meal is that? I need something more substantial than a cup of noodles!"

Shinra, however, kept walking and ignored his father's protests. Shingen could only shake his head and keep following. As he walked along, he noticed his son's lab out of the corner of his eye and spotted a small cleaning towel that was spotted with blood.

"What happened in your lab?" he asked. "Were you causing trouble again?"

"Oh, you saw the towel, didn't you?" Shinra frowned. "A friend of mine got injured a couple days back and I stitched up his wound. I haven't bothered to put some things away though…"

"I see…" Shingen muttered, his eyes focusing on something atop Shinra's desk. _Is that… a blood sample…? _"What's with the blood sample?"

"Oh… well…" Shinra had to try really hard to keep from sounding like he was making things up. "That friend wanted me to take a blood sample and identify the type just in case he needed a transfusion."

"Ah…" Shingen grunted and Shinra almost let out a sigh of relief, thinking he had thrown his father off of Izaya's trail. If someone like his father got a hold of that sample…

"So, cup of ramen it is…" the younger doctor smiled from the kitchen.

"Actually, I feel like sushi…" Shingen said. "What about that Russia Sushi place? How does that sound for take-out?"

"I'll call Celty quick and see if she can stop on the way…" Shinra murmured, taking out his cell phone and texting the dullahan. Once she returned the text, Shinra's face molded into a frown. "She says she's on the other side of town…"

"Oh well, I can go get it…" Shingen began but Shinra protested.

"No, it's fine!" he said enthusiastically. "I can take care of it, dad, I promise!"

"But transportation…"

"I can walk, no big deal," Shinra assured his father. "I'll be right back once I get our food, okay?"

"Alright…" Shingen sighed as Shinra raced out of the apartment. "Now… I can be left to my own devices…"

The gas-masked doctor snuck into Shinra's lab, examining the blood sample. The sample was completely and totally labeled, telling the name of the person it came from, the blood type, and a few other things. The doctor stroked his chin when he saw who the sample belonged to.

_Izaya Orihara, huh? _he thought. _Shinra was probably helping him after he got into a fight with Heiwajima Shizuo. _He read the other labels and immediately, his eyes widened. _Shinra wrote "Inhuman?" on his friend's blood sample… Why though? Is Orihara-san's DNA not entirely human?_

Shingen grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number. "Hello? Yes, this is Shingen Kishitani from Japan. I think you might want to know what I just found…"

…

"The UN?" Izaya rose an eyebrow at the two nations. "Why in the world is the UN involved in this? Don't they have more important issues to deal with?"

"Orihara-san, you must understand the reasoning behind the UN's involvement," Japan frowned. "Your return is a wonderful thing but it also poses several security issues."

"Like what?"

"Nobody knows we exist," America explained. "If the entire world was to find out that the nations exist in human form, things could become much more dangerous for us. There are people out there that would just use us for their own selfish reasons or, even worse, use us as test subjects. You're lucky we found you before anyone else did."

"Alright, I'll buy that…" Izaya muttered. "Where are we going then? I suppose you intend on reuniting me with the others, right?"

"Correct," Japan nodded. "We will be escorting you to the Hague in the Netherlands, where the UN's International Court of Justice is. We'll be going by private plane and stopping in a few countries along the way."

"And don't worry about your passport," America smiled. "Everything is covered, cost and all."

"You… you really thought this all through, didn't you?" Izaya asked, blinking in surprise. He slowly looked around his apartment, glancing at all the things he would be leaving behind. "And what about my apartment and my job…?"

"We can sell the apartment if you'd like or you can buy it under the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt and live here every once in a while," Japan suggested. "As for your job, we have a missing persons ad of Izaya Orihara pending as we speak. Once we leave, it will be assumed by most of Ikebukuro that you are gone for good."

"I see…" Izaya muttered, suddenly feeling uneasy. Leave everything behind and basically give up his existence as the famous information broker of Shinjuku? It was hard thinking about it but he had made a promise to Gilbert, a promise to himself, and despite him being one of the many scumbags of Shinjuku, he never broke a promise.

"Well, what do ya say?" America asked.

"I… I'll go with you," Izaya stuttered. "I'll go to the Hague with you and leave everything else behind."

"Are you sure, Orihara-san?" Japan asked.

"Completely," the informant nodded, touching his silvery roots. "You have my word."

"Wonderful," Japan smiled. "We can begin preparations to leave now. Please grab anything you want to take with you and we'll leave as soon as…"

Suddenly, the door to Izaya's apartment was kicked open, gaining the attention of all three men in the room.

"I-ZA-YAAAA!" a deep voice growled and Izaya felt the urge to kill himself.

"Not now…" he sighed.

"Why this moment…?" Japan also sighed.

America gave him a weird look. "What's wrong, dude?"

"The reason my kidney stones act up," Japan explained, his eyes pointing towards the doorway. "Shizuo Heiwajima."

The tall blond stomped into Izaya's apartment, hands shoved in his pockets and hazel eyes blazing behind his azure sunglasses. He walked past America and Japan, paying them no mind, and positioned himself right in front of Izaya, looming over the informant.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Izaya spat, glaring up at the other man.

Shizuo seemed to be caught off guard by this, unused to Izaya responding in a serious way. "I came to get answers, flea. I need to know why you ran away from Shinra's the other day."

"I'm afraid I'm not obliged to tell you," Izaya hissed, ruby eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm in the middle of something, if you haven't noticed so kindly remove your ass from my apartment."

America narrowed his eyes and reached into his coat slowly, keeping an eye on the other blond. Japan noticed and touched the other nation's elbow, gaining his attention.

"I know what you're thinking, America-san," he whispered. "But trust me when I say it won't do anything. He's been shot twice before and lived. It will only make him mad…"

"I'll take your word for it, Kiku…" America sighed heavily, removing his hand from inside his jacket. "But I don't like this…"

At that moment, Shizuo turned around and spotted the two nations, blinking in surprise. "Who are you two…?"

"They're obviously clients of mine," Izaya snorted from his seat. "So thank you very much for interrupting a rather important meeting."

"Sorry," Shizuo apologized sincerely to Japan and America and turned back to Izaya with a glare. "Flea, you're going back to Shinra's now. We need answers."

"No, I have more important matters to deal with right now," the informant stated, his glare increasing in venom. "I'm not moving an inch until you leave."

"Well, _I'm _not moving until you come with me!"

"Then I guess we're going to spend the rest of our lives here!" Izaya snapped.

"Flea…" Shizuo growled, a vein in his temple pulsing. "You're coming with me, whether you like it or not…" he grabbed Izaya's wrist and started to pry him off the couch, the informant struggling all the way. "Come on!"

"No!" Izaya protested, kicking at the blond. "I'm not going! I'm staying right here!"

"Don't make me do something I'll regret!" Shizuo snapped, putting some more strength into pulling on the informant. "Despite how much I hate you, I really don't want to snap your arm off!"

"H-Heiwajima-san!" Japan protested. "W-wait!"

"Get off, dammit!" Izaya yelled, both men ignoring the nation. Dammit, where was his knife…? As Shizuo reached out another hand to grab him with, Izaya craned his neck towards the limb and bit down hard on the bodyguard's fingers.

"Shit!" Shizuo cursed, jerking his hand back do a safe distance as blood dripped onto the carpet. "Dammit, flea… Now you've done it…"

"P-please, don't hurt him!" Japan begged and, once again, went unnoticed.

"Well, what are you going to do now?" Izaya spat, glaring at Shizuo. "Break my neck? Pound my head into the ground?"

"No, I have something else in mind…" Shizuo reached out and grabbed Izaya, throwing him over his shoulder.

"What the…? P-put me down!" Izaya protested, beating on Shizuo's back with his fists and kicking his legs around. "You asshole! Put me down right now!"

"Shut up," the bodyguard snorted and began to carry Izaya towards the door. "I told you that you were coming whether you wanted to or not."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you, you beast!" Izaya spat, beating his knees against Shizuo's chest. "Let go of me! I have business to take care of!"

"It can wait," the blond snorted, Japan and America watching silently as he went to exit the apartment.

"No it can't! You don't understand how important this is!" the informant protested, flailing around so much that the two nations in the room couldn't help but chuckle. "I have to stay, dammit!"

"Don't care…"

"It's a matter of international security, you bastard!" Izaya spat, digging his fingernails into Shizuo's shoulder. "Now put me down!"

"Bullshit," Shizuo snorted. "How fast did it take you to make that one up?"

"Actually, he's telling the truth, Heiwajima-san," Japan said, he and America suddenly in between Shizuo and the door. "We really need Orihara-san to stay with us."

"Why? Did the bastard do something to you?" Shizuo asked casually.

"_Iie…_" Japan replied softly, shaking his head. "Please put Orihara-san down…"

"Yeah, we kinda need him alive," America said, half-joking.

"Why do you need him?" Shizuo asked, looking at the two suspiciously. "And who the hell are you two anyways?"

America and Japan glanced at each other, mentally debating what to do. The Asian country knew that the blond man in front of them had a very short fuse so all they had to do was play their cards safe…

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to put the man down," America said in a commanding voice.

_America! _Japan felt like dying. Didn't the idiot know who they were dealing with? Why did that American always have to choose every option but "be safe?"

"Why should I?" Shizuo growled, glaring at America.

"I'll give you a good reason," America said, pulling a badge out of his coat pocket. "I'm Alfred F Jones, a member of the American Federal Agency Bureau. Our involvement with Mr. Orihara has become an issue in the international world and we need him with us."

Shizuo blinked and glanced at the man on his shoulder. "What the hell did you do now, flea?"

"Just put me down, you protozoan…" Izaya grunted and Shizuo shrugged, releasing the informant so that he slid right off his shoulder and onto the floor. "Ow! What the hell, dumbass?"

"Sorry about that," Shizuo apologized to the nations. "I didn't know."

"It's cool, dude," America chuckled, all seriousness gone once he put his badge away.

"I hope you don't mind us asking, but why do you need him?" Japan asked the bodyguard.

"My friend Shinra performed a check-up on him a couple days back," Shizuo explained, skirting around the fact about Izaya's strange DNA. "He wanted me to bring him back so he could see if he was still doing okay."

"Do you mean Shinra Kishitani?" Japan asked, surprised. If Shinra had gotten a hold of Izaya, then he probably found out somehow…

"How do you know Shinra…?" Shizuo asked, narrowing his eyes again.

"Well…" Japan began, cursing inwardly. How could he have forgotten? Shizuo was the doctor's friend; of course he wouldn't recognize the nation or believe what Japan had said.

"Oh just stop beating around the bush already!" Izaya grunted from the floor. "He already knows!"

"He knows?" America asked, looking surprised.

"Well, he doesn't know _everything…_" Izaya sighed.

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about, flea?" Shizuo demanded, glaring down at the informant.

"I'm not human," Izaya stated casually, getting to his feet. "You and Shinra weren't wrong about it at all. As of recently, I was told that I am, in fact, a nation."

"A nation…?" Shizuo asked with a frown. "Like a country? That's fucking ridiculous, flea…"

"No, it isn't," Japan said, stepping in. "My friend and I are nations as well. I'm Japan and this is America."

"Yo," America smiled, raising a hand in greeting.

Shizuo glanced between the two of them, looking unconvinced. "How do I know this is true?"

"Orihara-san, I believe your shoulder was recently injured, correct?" Japan asked.

"Yes," Izaya responded, touching the shoulder Shizuo had stabbed. "Why…?"

"May I see it?"

"Once again, _why_?"

"Just trust me."

"Alright…" Izaya sighed and slid off his jacket, pulling up his shirt and exposing his gauze-wrapped shoulder.

"Thank you," Japan nodded and gently started to unwrap the bandages around Izaya's shoulder, revealing the pale skin underneath. Much to Shizuo and Izaya's surprise, the flesh where the wound had been was now smooth and pale, unmarred by any scars.

"What the hell?" Shizuo muttered upon seeing Izaya's shoulder.

Izaya could only blink at the skin where the wound had once been, completely surprised. _It's… it's as like it never happened…_

"The hell is this?" Shizuo demanded, grabbing Izaya's shoulder and looking at it closely. "This can't be possible…"

"We're immortal," Japan explained. "We are able to regenerate in a number of seconds. Orihara-san just didn't notice until now."

"So, it is true…" Shizuo sighed. "We definitely need to see Shinra now…"

"I don't think we can allow that…" America frowned. "We need him to come with us right away."

"And where will you be taking him?" Shizuo asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's classified information," the American said. "I am not allowed to reveal it to anyone else but Mr. Orihara."

"Listen, you, I don't care who you are and what government position you have," Shizuo growled, glaring at the nation. "I'm taking him back to my friend. Then you can do whatever you want with him."

"I really don't want this to become a problem…" America said cautiously. "But this is a government affair so I have to ask you to stand down…"

"Stand down? I'm sure as hell not going to stand down!" Shizuo snapped and America's hand went for his jacket again.

"I'll go, Shizuo!" Izaya exclaimed before the two go engage.

"What?" the other three men asked at once, all confused.

"I trust Shinra," Izaya told the two nations. "Please, let me talk to him first then I'll go with you."

"If you're sure, Orihara-san…" Japan frowned. "But please, be quick. We need to leave as soon as possible."

"It won't be long, I promise," Izaya assured the nation and then turned to Shizuo. "I'll go with you as long as you don't carry me like a sack of potatoes this time."

"Just as long as you cooperate…" Shizuo snorted, turning towards the door.

Izaya turned back to the nations as he walked over his fallen door. "I'll call once we're done. See you at the airport." With that, he followed Shizuo out of the apartment and disappeared from the nations' sight.

"I'm not sure if I like this…" America frowned.

"I know, America-san," Japan sighed. "All we can do for now is trust him and pray nothing goes wrong…"


	10. Chapter 9: Departure

**Oh my goodness, why do I feel like I'm really late on posting this? Regardless, I am very proud of the end result. I was just waiting to write this chapter and I enjoyed every second of writing it. ^^ I actually had a dream that had a bunch of this chapter in it, mainly the end. After having said dream, I just found it too good of a scene to pass up. I hope you all like this chapter and please review!**

Chapter 9

Departure

"I can't believe I'm doing this…" Izaya muttered as he and Shizuo walked to Shinra's apartment.

"Oh, shut up and stop whining, flea…" Shizuo growled. "You agreed to come along, remember?"

"Yeah but I just remembered what kind of person Shinra is," Izaya sighed. "He's going to want to dissect me, you know…"

Shizuo shrugged and lit a cigarette. "Better you than me."

"Asshole…"

"You do know that you can refuse, right?" Shizuo suddenly asked. "He asks me all the time. I say no and he shuts up. Not to mention, he already has a blood sample from you which is more than enough."

"Still…" Izaya mumbled as they entered the apartment complex. "I just… don't like it…"

Shizuo shot an intrigued look at the informant but said nothing.

The two silently made their way to the elevator, Izaya making sure to be as far away from the debt collector as possible. The ride on the elevator was definitely a new experience for the two men, mainly because they weren't trying to kill each other. Shizuo felt his eyes drift over to the flea in the corner, hazel orbs focusing on Izaya's expression.

_He seems so out of it… _Shizuo thought, noticing how unfocused the informant's eyes were. _I could kill him right now if I wanted… then again, those men claiming to be nations need him for something and I really don't need the government on my ass… Damn, there's more consequences for killing him than leaving him alive._

Shizuo's eyes then moved upward, focusing on the silver strip of hair that was Izaya's part. The silver area had seemed to expand slightly over the course of two days, becoming more prominent. Was the silver hair a part of this nation nonsense or was the flea late on re-dying his hair?

_No, that wouldn't make sense at all… _the debt collector thought. _If he had dyed his hair, the little bastard wouldn't have made such a scene two days ago. So it must have something to do with this nation thing…_

"Why the hell are you staring at me?" Izaya suddenly asked, his expression sour. "It's rather creepy."

"I was just admiring how quiet you were being," Shizuo shot back, taking one last drag on his cigarette. "And I was enjoying myself until you opened your fat mouth and ruined everything."

"Very funny…" Izaya snorted and looked away from the blond.

Shizuo let out a long sigh; stupid flea wasn't supposed to act like that hurt his feelings! "Listen, do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about _what_?" Izaya asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Be more specific, protozoan…"

"The identity crisis you mentioned a couple of days ago," the blond clarified. "Wanna talk about it?"

Izaya blinked in surprise and his expression turned sour once more, signifying that, no, he did _not _want to talk about it. "Listen, I'm not the kind of person who just _adores _talking about their 'feelings.' You're getting nothing out of me, protozoan. Besides, I'm going to tell it all to Shinra anyways so you'll hear it after all… if your brain can handle it. Other than that, I do not wish to play therapist with you so kindly keep your stupid, monster nose out of my business!"

Shizuo shot a glare at the informant and put out his cigarette with the bottom of his shoe before throwing it in small, cigarette disposal bag he kept in his vest. "Fine, you little ass. Keep it all to yourself." He leaned against the wall of the elevator and added in a low mutter, "That's what I get for trying to be nice…"

Eventually, the elevator came to a halt and the door open with a 'ding.' Almost immediately, Izaya exited the metal box and started off towards Shinra's apartment, leaving Shizuo to catch up. Without any hesitation, Izaya walked up to Shinra's door and banged rather loudly on the wooden surface, an irked expression on his face.

"You can't stay still for a moment, can you?" Shizuo snorted once he caught up to the informant.

Izaya said nothing and the door opened, revealing Shinra on the other side.

"Oh, hello you two!" he chirped happily and held the door open for his friends. "Please, come in!" As the two men walked in, Shinra pulled Shizuo aside. "You were able to bring him here after all?"

"Trust me, it was easier than I expected…" Shizuo grunted.

"Shinra, what is it that you needed to talk to me about?" Izaya asked suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have a previous engagement that I need to go to right after this."

"Um… How about I get you two something to drink first?" Shinra asked, looking slightly nervous at the mention of talking about Izaya's inhumanity.

"I'm fine," Izaya insisted with a glare and then turned to leave for the living room. "I'll be on the couch when you're ready to talk…"

"Wait, Izaya!" Shinra protested and went after the informant.

Shizuo let out a long sigh and followed the two other men, wondering why on earth he had chosen to get involved. As Izaya walked to the living room, he bumped into someone dressed in a white lab coat.

"Oh, Orihara-san!" Shingen exclaimed pleasantly, lifting a hand in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here today."

"Neither did I, Kishitani-san…" Izaya said, trying to keep himself from seeming too cautious about Shinra's dad being present during his current identity crisis.

"Ah, dad!" Shinra had caught up to Izaya now, Shizuo trailing slightly behind. "Sorry for the sudden guests… I didn't know they were coming myself."

"It's alright," Shingen assured his son. "I needed to go and run some errands anyways. You three enjoy yourselves. I'll be back in due time." He paused, glancing at Izaya one last time. "Oh and Orihara-san… Try to give yourself a break once in a while. You're already getting white hairs…"

Izaya touched his part self-consciously as Shingen left, previously having forgotten all about the obvious physical difference he had obtained upon discovering he was a nation. After the older doctor left, Shinra let out a long breath of relief and the two others shot him a look.

"Why didn't you warn us earlier?" Izaya hissed, looking rather irritable.

"I didn't know you two were coming!" Shinra protested. "If I had known, I would've warned you!"

"Dammit, Shinra…" Izaya growled. "If he finds out…"

"Calm down, louse," Shizuo snorted. "Shinra's old man doesn't know shit. You didn't spill anything about what those two men told us so I would assume that he doesn't suspect anything."

"Wait… what two men are you talking about…?" Shinra asked, looking perplexed.

"And that leads us straight to our discussion…" Izaya sighed, flopping down on one of the couches. "A couple days ago, you were asking me about my humanity… well, thanks to this protozoan, I'm back to give you a straight answer. So no, Shinra… I'm not human."

"I… I see…" Shinra said, walking over and taking a seat as well. "What are you then?"

"A nation," Izaya replied. "The former nation of Prussia, to be precise."

"A nation?" the doctor inquired, cocking his head to the side. "I'm not sure I understand…"

"A nation is a personified being that represents both its people and country," Izaya explained. "Nations are immortal but are able to die only when the country itself disappears for all eternity."

"But if you're Prussia, wouldn't you be dead?" Shinra reasoned. "If your explanation is true, why are you still alive?"

"I… don't know…" Izaya said slowly, his eyes darkening. "I've lost most of my memories from my time of being a nation. I know nothing else."

"So who are the two men you met and talked to?"

"The nations of Japan and America," the informant answered. "There was another named Germany who came earlier. They told me that the UN wishes for me to go with them to the Netherlands so that the secret of the existence of all nations isn't put in jeopardy."

"The Netherlands?" Shinra asked, completely and totally surprised. "You're going to the _Netherlands_?"

"So that's where they'll be taking you…" Shizuo snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's about time you left Ikebukuro…"

"When are you leaving?"

"Right after this, hopefully…"

"B-but… Izaya! What about your job?" Shinra asked, looking worried. "What about everything you have here?"

"It's been taken care of," Izaya told him. "My job, my apartment… even myself. After today, Izaya Orihara will be a thing of the past."

"So you're going to leave everything behind?" Shinra asked with a frown.

"I have to," Izaya sighed, rubbing his temples. "I made a promise to someone and I intend to keep that promise…"

Shizuo rose an eyebrow, surprised by how serious Izaya was being. He was leaving everything behind not just because he was legally obligated but because he had made a promise to someone.

_And here I thought he was a selfish bastard… _

"So that's in then?" Shinra asked. "Well… if it's what you want… I do wish you would let me dissect you though…"

Izaya shot Shizuo a look and then let out a forced chuckle. "Yeah… Not enough time for that, I'm afraid…" He got to his feet at once heading off in the general direction of the door. "Well, I should get going. I still need to pack, after all…"

"Are you going to meet them at the airport, your nation friends?" Shinra asked, looking concerned. "You'll need a ride there, you know…"

"I can get a cab," Izaya said, waving the question off.

"Wait a second, you louse," Shizuo grunted, reaching out to grab Izaya's collar. "You know as much as I do that to those two nation guys, your safety is a priority."

"Nothing is going to happen! I'll be fine!" Izaya snarled. "Now let go of me!"

"He's right, Izaya," Shinra said. "You'd be better off with someone you know… like Kadota! I'll call him right now!"

"Wait, Shinra! You don't…!" Izaya protested but the doctor had already gone to get his phone. "Great…"

"What, do you not appreciate other people's help?" the blond debt collector snorted.

"No," Izaya countered. "I just think you and Shinra should stay out of this. It's _my_ problem, not yours."

"In case you haven't noticed, Shinra considers you a friend," Shizuo growled, pulling Izaya forward by the front of his shirt. "I don't know _why _he does but he's willing to help you with this. Try to have some appreciation for the people who care about you…"

Izaya pulled away with a grunt, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. "I don't need your bullshit…"

Before Shizuo could consider pounding Izaya's face into the floor, Shinra came back with a bright smile on his face.

"Kadota said he'll be waiting at your apartment to get you," the doctor smiled. "All you need to do is pack."

Shizuo shot a glare at Izaya, prompting the informant.

"Thanks, Shinra…" Izaya muttered, eyes still low. "I… I guess I'll be going then."

"Hold on, I just thought of something!" Shinra said, keeping Izaya from leaving. "You'll probably need someone to be around you at all times to help protect you, like a bodyguard of some sorts."

"Shinra… I can take care of myself…"

"Yes, I know… But just in case!"

"Okay then… Suppose I _did_ need a bodyguard," Izaya sighed, rolling his eyes. "Where would I get one?"

"Well…" Shinra's eyes drifted over to Shizuo.

"No." Izaya and Shizuo glared at each other for speaking at the same time.

"But-!"

"There's no way in hell I would let _him _be my bodyguard," Izaya snorted. "He wouldn't protect me at all! He'd snap my neck over his knee!"

"I agree," Shizuo grunted. "I would tear him to pieces before actually guarding him. Not to mention I don't want to go all the way to the Netherlands over his sorry ass."

"Oh thanks, Shizu-chan~"

"I told you not to call me that, you fucking louse!"

"Exactly my point," Izaya sighed. "We would kill each other."

"But, guys!" Shinra protested. "Just think about it for a second! Izaya's in a situation where he may need to be guarded by someone and while he's very skilled, he may be easily over-taken by a large group of people who know how to keep him down. Shizuo is very strong and doesn't attract much attention due to the fact that most people fear him. It's perfect!"

"You forgot to factor in our mutual hate and distrust…" Izaya sighed.

"It won't work, Shinra," Shizuo said, shaking his head. "We hate each other too much. _Nothing _would make me want to guard the flea…"

"What if you think of it as a job?" Shinra asked and Shizuo turned to look at him, visibly intrigued. "If he's so important to the UN, maybe they'll reward you for protecting him."

Shizuo blinked, looking a tad tempted by this offer. "I… I actually don't have a lot of money right now…"

"And I bet they would give you quite a bit for taking Izaya to the Netherlands!" Shinra continued, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "So, what do you say? Will you be Izaya's bodyguard?"

Shizuo let out a long, ragged sigh. "Fine… Whatever makes you sleep at night…"

"Great!" Shinra cheered.

"Fuck!" Izaya cursed, kicking the kitchen counter.

"One more thing before you two leave!" Shinra ran out of the room and quickly came back with a laptop. "Take this. It has a webcam and Skype on it. You can use it to talk to Celty and I while you're gone and catch up on what's going on back home. You can also keep us up-to-date on what's going on with you guys. Sound good?"

"Yeah, thanks…" Izaya sighed, taking the computer. "Since when did you become such a mother hen…?"

"Okay, you guys should head off now," Shinra said excitedly, pushing them off towards the door. "Shouldn't keep Kadota waiting, after all! Have fun!"

Once the two of them were out the door, Izaya shot a glare at Shizuo.

"One wrong step and I kill you," he spat and walked to the elevator.

"That rule applies to both of us," Shizuo muttered and followed the informant, now very reluctant to start this new adventure.

…

Needless to say, Shizuo and Izaya were surprised to find Japan and America waiting for them at Izaya's apartment.

"You're still here?" Izaya asked. "I thought you two would have left for the airport by now…"

"We were going to but we thought we should accompany you two with Kadota-san," Japan smiled.

"How… did you know that?" Shizuo asked.

"I _am_ the nation of Japan," the nation reasoned. "It's only natural I should know what all my citizens are doing."

"Right…" the blond grunted.

"America-san, you stay here and wait for Orihara-san to get packed," Japan told his companion. "Heiwajima-san and I will wait for Kadota-san to arrive."

"Got it," America nodded and turned to Izaya with a smile.

"I'll go ahead and get started then…" Izaya sighed, willing to get as much distance between himself and the American as possible.

"We'll wait out front," Japan said and turned to Shizuo. "Heiwajima-san?"

"Sure…" Shizuo grunted and followed Japan out, happy to get away from the flea.

As America waited at the front door, Izaya went to his room and grabbed a duffel bag, stuffing as much clothes in it as he could. As he gathered up all that he needed, he spotted a glass case on his bookshelf.

_Ah yes, that… _he thought as he took the case off the shelf. _Celty's head… Now that I've found that I'm immortal, do I really need you anymore? _He frowned at the ethereal object, wondering if he should take it with him or not. _If I do, Celty will notice… It's better that she not come after me… Besides, I'll buy this apartment back under the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt after all this. _He put it back on the bookshelf, hiding it behind the numerous books he had. _Goodbye for now, valkyrie. _

He picked up his duffel bag and put the computer Shinra gave them in a case, taking his luggage out to where America was waiting.

"Ready to go?" the blond nation asked with a bright smile.

"Yeah, I guess…" Izaya said, looking back at his apartment. At that moment, he realized just how much he would miss this place.

"You gonna miss it?" America asked as they walked to the elevator. "You _are_ leaving your home after all…"

"Ah, well, _c'est la vie…_" Izaya sighed. "It's all behind me now. This is what's important right now, right?"

America only smiled at him, his blue eyes looking like those of a wise old man rather than a young one. "I guess… but you never know for sure sometimes…"

Izaya shot America a confused look but walked on in silence. After a few minutes, the two of them were reunited with Japan and Shizuo out in front of the apartment complex. It was then that Izaya noticed Saburo Togusa's green van parked nearby, Kadota leaning against the side.

"There you are," Kadota said, lifting a hand in greeting once he saw Izaya. "Shinra told me you needed a ride to the airport."

"That I do…" Izaya sighed, putting on his usual smirk. "I hope you don't mind that I bring along a few unexpected passengers, Dotachin…"

"Not at all," Kadota told him, glancing at Japan, America, and Shizuo. "We left Erika and Walker behind so they wouldn't be any trouble. What time do you have to be at the airport, anyways?"

"It doesn't matter," Japan answered as he moved to get in the van. "Just as long as we get there."

Kadota rose an eyebrow at Izaya, asking him a silent question.

"Just go with it…" Izaya sighed as he got in, sitting next to Japan.

America got in the back as well, followed by Shizuo.

"You're coming too, Shizuo?" Kadota asked, surprised that the bodyguard would willingly ride in the same car as Izaya.

"Shinra has a mother complex," Shizuo grunted as he took a seat, leaving the other man to wonder if Shinra wanted the world to end.

Once Kadota slid into the passenger's seat and everyone else was buckled up, Saburo took the van out of park and started to drive off to the airport, unknowingly taking the step that would send Izaya on his way to the Netherlands. As the van went along, an uncomfortable and awkward silence settled over all the occupants. Kadota glanced in the rearview mirror, looking at the four men in the back.

Japan and America were sitting on either side of Izaya, almost protectively, as the informant looked at his lap, scarlet eyes distant and unfocused. Shizuo was obviously separate from the group, looking away from everyone as he stared at all that occurred outside of the window. Kadota frowned, his mocha eyes narrowing. Such a suspicious bunch…

"Hey, Izaya…" he said suddenly, getting the attention of the informant. "What's with your hair? I noticed the top of your roots are completely white…"

Izaya seemed to pause, fingers drifting self-consciously above the aforementioned part. "It's… uhm… something new I wanted to try… just felt like dying it…"

Kadota frowned again. That didn't seem like something the informant would do… He focused on the two men next to Izaya. "I'm sorry, but I believe I didn't catch your friends' names, Izaya…"

"I'm Kiku Honda," Japan introduced himself, bowing slightly. "This is my friend Alfred F Jones."

"Kyohei Kadota," the man in the front seat said. "Saburo Togusa is the man in the driver's seat."

"It's nice to meet you," Japan smiled and Kadota managed a small smile, showing that he shared the same sentiments.

"So where are you going, Izaya?" Kadota asked and the informant froze, glancing cautiously at Japan.

"Europe," Izaya said, being careful not to be too specific.

"Why there?"

"Just felt like seeing more of the world," Izaya replied casually, already slipping comfortably into his new alibi. "Europe would be a nice place to start…"

"Really? Not in trouble with any of the yakuza?"

"I wish…" Shizuo grunted from his seat.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me, Dotachin…" Izaya sniffed, rolling his eyes. "No. No issues with the yakuza…"

"Yeah well, that just seems like the kind of trouble you would manage to find…" Kadota chuckled and turned to look out the windshield, his eyes quickly narrowing at something ahead of them. "Saburo… Does that look like a road block to you?"

"Sure does…" the other man replied, making sure to make the van slow down. "Kinda like cops will do every once in a while… but what's with all the guys in suits?"

Izaya's head snapped up to look, as did the heads of his three companions in the back. Sure enough, there were a line of dark cars blocking the road, flashing their headlights as the van approached. About five or six men wearing suits and dark sunglasses stood in a single file line, as if they were waiting for the van to come along.

"I don't like this…" Shizuo muttered, watching the men carefully.

_My thoughts exactly… _Izaya thought, finding that a lump had decided to form in his throat. He glanced between Japan and America, who were trading worried glances. "Are they…?" he began to ask when Japan silenced him with a look and nodded to America.

The blond nation tapped Saburo on the shoulder, wearing a grim expression. "Listen, buddy, we're going to have to get our asses out of here real fast… Think you can do that?"

All the man could do was blink at him in confusion. "Why…?"

America pulled his badge again, showing it to both the men in the front. "This is a matter of international security and, in another situation, I would be more polite but move this damn van right now!"

Kadota looked back at Izaya, a look of complete surprise on his face. "What the hell did you do _now_?"

"Nothing!" Izaya snapped as Saburo quickly put the van in reverse. "Why do you all think I did something completely illegal against the entire fucking world?"

"Truthfully, it wouldn't be surprising!" Shizuo snarled as the vehicle snapped around, giving quite a few of the passengers whiplash.

As they sped away from the blockade, the men that had been waiting for them piled back into the cars and chased after them, unwilling for them to get away.

"I apologize," Japan said to Kadota and Saburo. "But I believe we will have to take a detour…"

"Ludwig's not going to be happy about this…" America mumbled as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Hello? Yes, we've run into a slight problem… Is there a chance we can board the plane at a different location?"

"What are we doing now…?" Izaya asked Japan, looking unsure of what was going on.

"We're going to try to board the plane somewhere else, possibly somewhere private," Japan told him. "America-san will fill us in on the details once he knows everything."

"Well, we'd better work on losing our little friends first…" Shizuo remarked dryly from his seat as he looked through the back window.

"Shit," Saburo cursed once he saw their pursuers in the rearview window. "You've got to be kidding me…"

"We'll just have to be clever then…" Japan said, narrowing his eyes. "Turn here, quickly!"

Saburo complied and turned sharply, the screeching of wheels reaching everyone's ears. Everyone in the back were quickly pressed together by the force of the turn, getting an involuntary squeal from Japan seeing as he was pressed against the window. At that moment, Kadota was extremely grateful that Erika and Walker hadn't come along because if they had, this would have been a thousand times worse.

Suddenly, there was a sharp cracking noise, almost as if someone had cracked a whip, and the sound of shattering glass. Kadota looked to his left to see that the side mirror had been broken, almost as if someone had shot it.

Wait a second…

"Are they _shooting_ at us?" he asked in surprise, turning to Saburo with a horrified look.

"Shit, not again…" the driver growled.

In the back, America traded looks with Japan again and turned to Shizuo, motioning for them to trade seats.

"Ame… Alfred-san!" Japan shouted as his companion tossed him the phone, catching himself on America's true name. "I know what you're thinking! Don't-!"

"Sorry, Kiku," America replied as he rolled down the window. "But it's the only way we'll get them off our backs." With that, he stuck his head and torso out the open window, pulling a Colt .45 out of his jacket and returning fire to their pursuers.

"Him too?" Saburo grunted under his breath. "What's with all these people getting guns in Japan?"

"If this goes according to plan, Alfred-san may buy us some time…" Japan said and continued to speak to whoever they were talking to on the phone. "We are currently engaged with hostiles and need to relocate." He paused, frowning. "Are you sure? …Fine…" He put down the phone and leaned over to talk to Kadota. "I apologize for this but we have to go back to Shinjuku."

"What? Are you telling us we should _turn around_?" Saburo spluttered.

"It's the best option we have!" America yelled from outside.

"There's an abandoned building where we'll be able to take Orihara-san and deliver him safely," Japan instructed. "We'll be able to lose them but only if you listen to me."

Kadota narrowed his eyes at Izaya. "Okay, what's _really_ going on here?"

"No time to explain!" America shouted. "Just turn this damn thing around or-!"

There was a loud crack and America fell back into the van, a bullet in his forehead. Blood was dripping down his face and his eyes were rolled up into his head, only the whites showing. Izaya jumped when the dead man's head fell into his lap, shocked at how fast he was killed. Shizuo and Kadota could only stare at the body, shock visible on their faces. Japan mumbled a curse under his breath but otherwise seemed unfazed.

Izaya blinked at the blond man's dead body, surprised by his sudden death. Weren't nations immortal? It made no sense to him… His eyes flickered to the gun that was still in America's limp hand and suddenly, something was awakened within him. Without a second thought, he grabbed the .45 and pushed past Shizuo, taking the same position that America had.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shizuo bellowed, grabbing Izaya's sleeve.

"Saving our asses!" Izaya snapped, opening fire on those chasing them. "Do you _want _them to keep shooting at us?"

"What about him?" Shizuo asked, referring to the dead man next to him.

"He'll be fine!"

"…Are you fucking insane? He's _dead_!"

"Just… trust me!" Izaya yelled back. "I don't know how to explain it but I just _know!_" He fired the gun again, hitting one of the shooters.

"Damn…" Shizuo growled and looked at Japan. "Well, what do you think we should do?"

"We just need to get to Shinjuku as soon as possible," the nation replied seriously.

"Dammit…" Saburo growled, turning suddenly so that they were heading back to Shinjuku. "Just tell me where the damn place is…"

"What about our friends?" Kadota asked, glancing back at the cars chasing them.

Shizuo frowned as he looked between their pursuers and the dead man next to him. What were they going to do now…? As he looked upon the dead body of the blond nation, he noticed that America's fingers began to twitch and a low groan came from the dead man's lips. Much to his surprise, the body sat up and the bullet popped right out of America's forehead, rolling under the seats of the van. America's eyes rolled forward to reveal his irises and he began to rub his forehead, a low groan emitting from his throat. Shizuo could only blink in amazement; he had just witnessed a dead man return to the realm of the living.

"Damn… I hate it when that happens…" America muttered, trying to wipe the blood from his face.

The blond nation looked around, reassessing himself to his surroundings. His eyes caught Izaya shooting at those chasing them and his brain quickly formulated a plan.

"Shoot at the tires!" he told the informant. "It'll buy us as much time as we need!"

Izaya complied and aimed at the tires, quickly taking out the front tires of all the cars. Once their pursuers were rendered immobile, they took off towards Shinjuku, Japan directing the way. When Izaya returned to the inside of the van, he handed the gun back to America and stared ahead with a blank expression.

"I… I don't know how I did that…" he muttered in surprise, eyes wide. He had never used a gun before and did not expect to be so accurate.

America grasped his shoulder and offered him a wide smile. "Nice shooting! Must be you still have it!"

Izaya could only blink at him. _Gilbert, what haven't you told me…? What do I have yet to remember?_

Hopefully, the answers would come to him once his trip to the Netherlands began.


	11. Chapter 10: Egypt

**And so the journey to the Netherlands begins! This took forever but it was so worth it! I've got a nice long chapter for all of you who have been reading this and I hope you all enjoy it!**

Chapter 10

Egypt

"They got away?" he asked the man on the other line, sounding a tad surprised.

"Yes, sir, they did…" the caller sighed. "We thought we had them but we didn't expect for them to have guards."

"They had guards?"

"Yes," the caller said. "Well, at least I think they were guards. One of them opened fire on us."

"Is that so…?" the man said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Did you see Orihara?"

"Yes sir. He actually fired upon us after we took out one of the guards…"

"Interesting… Do you know where their flight will be going?"

"We've been tracking it," the caller responded. "We at Nebula would be fools to pass up this opportunity."

"You're all very persistent people, aren't you?" the man chuckled.

"We do all we can, sir," the caller said curtly. "By the way, what's the progress on that dullahan…?"

"No luck so far," the man quickly responded. "I doubt she'll be leaving Japan anytime soon."

"Well, thank you very much for your information, Mr. Kishitani," the caller said. "We'll catch up to Mr. Orihara in no time."

Shingen snapped his phone closed and tucked it into his pocket as he walked back to Shinra's apartment, looking up at the sky thoughtfully.

_Where are you then, Izaya Orihara? _He asked silently. _And who were those men with you? Are they inhuman just like you are… or is this a small piece to a bigger puzzle…?_

…

Words could not describe the relief Izaya felt once they reached the drop-off point. Togusa's van had made it all the way to an abandoned skyscraper in Shinjuku without any further entanglements or hold-ups. Shizuo was the first one to get out of the van, thankful to get out of the small space he had been sharing with the flea as well as a man who should have been dead.

"Thanks, Dotachin…" Izaya muttered as he got out after America, who was still cleaning the blood off of his face. "I… um… I'll be paying for the damages to the van…"

"Don't worry about it," Kadota told him. "We'll take care of it."

Izaya blinked, slightly surprised. "I-I'm sorry for getting you involved in this…"

"Izaya, calm down," the other man sighed as Japan got out of the van.

"I-I am calm!" the informant insisted and Kadota rose an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Okay… well, maybe I'm just a little frazzled from what happened earlier… But I _am _sorry…"

"Like I said before, don't worry about it," Kadota said. "If anything else happens, I'm sure we'll be able to handle it."

"Alright…" Izaya mumbled and waved a hand in farewell. "Well, _ja nee_, Dotachin."

"_Ja nee,_" Kadota said, letting the nickname slide for the time being as he watched the four men walk off. "Hey, Togusa…"

"What is it?"

"I just had this strange feeling…" Kadota said, focusing on Izaya's back. "Almost like I'm never going to see him again…"

"Don't worry about it," Togusa said, starting the van up again once the four men disappeared into the building. "I'm sure we haven't seen the last of him. After all, there's still a lot of trouble for him to cause…"

"True…" Kadota sighed as they drove off but the thought of Izaya suddenly disappearing from existence stayed in the back of his mind, nagging him for the rest of the day.

…

"You didn't even bother to make that goodbye final…"

Izaya snapped his head up to look at Shizuo as they walked up the stairs of the abandoned building, shooting the blond an inquiring look. "What?"

"When you were talking to Kadota," Shizuo said, digging a cigarette out of his breast pocket. "You just said goodbye as if you were going to come back in a few weeks or so but you and I both know that's not going to happen. He's your friend, isn't he?"

"That's none of your business," Izaya snorted, looking away from the blond. "What about you? He's your friend too and yet you said nothing."

"_I'm_ coming back," Shizuo said simply. "_You're_ going on the missing persons list tomorrow. There's a big difference there." He then searched through his pockets, looking for something to light his cigarette with. "Shit… I forgot my lighter."

"You're seriously going to smoke on the plane?" Izaya asked, looking disgusted. "Why the hell do you need to do that _now_?"

"I need to relax," Shizuo growled, putting the cigarette in his lips. "This always helps me calm down."

"But why on earth…?"

"I just saw someone fucking _die_, Izaya!" Shizuo snapped, glaring at the informant. "And if _that_ wasn't enough, I saw them come back before my very eyes so I think I really fucking deserve the _damn smoke_."

Izaya blinked in surprise, taken aback by Shizuo's outburst. The blond continued up the stairs, Izaya staring at his back as he went along. Now that he noticed it, he could see Shizuo's frame trembling ever so slightly, barely noticeable.

_He was shaken up by that little car chase…? _the informant thought in disbelief. Sure, most humans would have the piss scared out of them but Shizuo Heiwajima? _Don't tell me you were scared, protozoan… _

America turned to glance at Shizuo as the other blond made his way up the stairs. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine…" the bodyguard grunted, not looking at the other man.

"Ah… need a light?" America offered, pulling out a lighter with the British flag printed on it.

Shizuo blinked. "…You smoke?"

"Nah, I stopped after the forties…" America smiled as Shizuo took the lighter. "It belongs to a friend of mine who smokes every once in a while. He usually lets me hang onto it when he's trying to break the habit… and then almost kills me when he wants it back."

"Thanks…" Shizuo mumbled, lighting the cigarette and handing the lighter back to America.

"No problemo," the nation chuckled, tucking the lighter back into his jacket. It was then that he noticed the other blond staring at him. "Something wrong?"

"…You're supposed to be dead…"

"Ah, that…" America sighed, scratching his head nervously. "I guess I can see why that would come to a surprise to you… It's just a natural part of being a nation, I guess."

"So you've died before?"

"More than I can count," the nation nodded. "Most of the time, I would bite it due to a war or a battle… Got hanged by some nutsos who thought I was a witch back in the 1600s… wasn't pretty."

Shizuo shuddered visibly, thinking about how many times the man had suffered the pain of gruesome deaths. Now that he thought of it, how many times had Japan died?

_And then there's Izaya… _he thought, glancing over his shoulder to look at the informant. _Since he's a nation as well, how many times has _he_ died?_

Deciding not to linger on it for too long, Shizuo took another drag on his cigarette and turned back to America as they continued up the stairs. "What is it like, living forever?"

America blinked in surprise, amazed that the blond would ask such a question. "Not that bad, I guess… You can't die, well, you can't _stay_ dead so that's a plus." His bright blue eyes darkened suddenly, his expression turning serious. "But… you meet many people that don't live as long as you since they have mortal bodies. I've met many brave men who fought for me in all the wars I've been through and I always have to come to terms that they might die and I'll never see them again."

"Must be hard…"

"It is but…" America wore a sad smile on his face. "I'm proud… I'm proud of the courage of my people. They go out and do the things that I can't handle, that I'm unable to do. They are so much better than me in many ways… I have done some things that I doubt God would ever forgive. They are everything to me because a country is nothing without its people."

Shizuo said nothing as they kept walking, not knowing what to say to that. The blond man in front of him, as well as all other nations that he had yet to meet, had been through all sorts of hell that spanned generations. The things those blue eyes had seen were more than one man would ever see in a lifetime, more death than one man could ever stand.

"Here we are," Japan said suddenly, making it known that they had finally reached the top level. "They should be waiting for us now…"

"You managed to fit a plane on the roof of a building?" Izaya asked, arching one thin eyebrow in disbelief.

"Not exactly," America said as Japan opened the door, revealing to everyone that a large helicopter was perched on the rooftop. "This was just the rendezvous point. We're meeting the jet in Tokyo."

Izaya and Shizuo traded surprised looks and quickly took their eyes off each other, focusing instead on the helicopter.

"Well? You guys coming or what?" America asked as he and Japan headed off towards the helicopter.

"What the hell do you think?" Izaya snorted, stomping off towards the aircraft. "You're the ones who want me to go to the Netherlands anyways, remember?"

Shizuo took one last drag on his cigarette before putting it out, walking slowly towards the chopper. "Let's just get this over with…"

…

As the nations had promised, the helicopter had taken the four of them to Tokyo, where they boarded Japan's private jet to take to the Netherlands. Izaya was immensely relieved once they got on the jet and were able to take off without any issues. Now that he thought about it, who were those people anyway and how on earth did they know about him? Only a few people outside of his fellow countries knew about his nation status, those people being Celty, Shinra, and Shizuo. Celty and Shinra would never let something like that slip due to them being caring people and Shizuo…

Well, he just didn't give a flying fuck…

Izaya glanced at America and Japan, who were quietly conversing amongst themselves. They were most likely talking about it too and wondering how their security had been compromised. Izaya's scarlet eyes slid over to Shizuo, who had made sure to sit as far away from the informant as possible. He wasn't trembling anymore but he had still made sure to be as distant from everyone else as possible.

_He's so strange… and unpredictable… _Izaya thought. _That's what I hate about him the most…_

"Orihara-san?"

Izaya snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at Japan. "Y-yes?"

"Do you know what that was about, the car chase?" the nation asked with a frown.

"No… I don't…" Izaya said. "The only people who know wouldn't tell someone that would try to capture me. Trust me, I've been pondering it ever since we got in the air…"

America and Japan exchanged concerned glances and looked back at Izaya.

"Hopefully that was the last time we'll ever see them," Japan sighed.

"True… but we shouldn't let our guard down," America said, deadly serious. "Whoever was behind that will probably try it again and it's not unlikely that they already know where we're going since they knew exactly what we were planning on doing beforehand…"

Behind them, Shizuo narrowed his eyes as he stared out the window, listening to the conversation despite how much he had distanced himself.

"You're right, America-san…" Japan frowned. "But let's not get too anxious. What we need to do now is just relax."

"Sounds good to me," America yawned, suddenly switching personalities again. "All that shooting made me tired…"

Izaya rolled his eyes and tried to make himself comfortable in his seat, eyelids growing heavy as he watched the clouds pass by. Before he knew it, gravity started working against his drooping eyelids and sleep came upon him.

…

_"Kesesese! That butt-sore face must mean you got your ass kicked by Turkey again, huh?" _

_ A short child with brown hair pulled into a ponytail and striking green eyes looked up at him, shooting an indignant glare at the albino. _

_ "Aw hell, it's you…" the brunette child growled, looking irritated and uncomfortable at the same time. "This… this is a personal problem so go away!" _

_ Instead of driving the albino boy away, this only made the mischievous child more interested in the brunette's problems._

_ "Kesesese~! Personal problems, huh?" he teased, red eyes glinting as he poked at the other boy "Shouldn't you at least talk about it with that money wasting king of yours?"_

_ "Shut your mouth!" the other boy snapped. "I do have my dignity, you know! I just can't show my weakness like that!"_

_ Ah yes, that was right… The little boy with the brown hair was a warrior of some sort, always fighting for survival. And the other one… white robes with a black cross; was he a knight of some sort? No, he looked too young and seemed to be too much of a troublemaker anyways._

_ "Well, just tell me!" the boy in the knight-like robes insisted with a crooked grin. "It won't do you any good keeping it in~!"_

_ The other boy blinked and let out a long sigh, looking defeated. "I don't really want to but… oh well…" his green eyes darkened. "I think… I think I might be sick…"_

_ The albino boy paused, red eyes growing wide and the smirk falling from his face. His friend? Sick? Was it something serious, something to do with the country…?_

_ "I've been having awful pains in my chest lately… a sort of throbbing pain," the brunette continued. "And I've been out of it…" Before he could say anything more, he found two pale hands resting on his chest._

_ "Oh yeah! Weak point confirmed!" the albino cheered, all seriousness from earlier completely removed from his mind. "Kesesese~!"_

_ "You little rat!" the brunette spat, taking a swipe at his friend. "Only cowards do sneak attacks!"_

_ "Hahaha!" the albino laughed, dodging the attack. "That felt good!" His pride at his "attack" quickly disappeared once he realized how strange the other's chest had felt. "Wait… No, that's not how it's supposed to… but it felt just like…" a shocking thought occurred to him and he immediately started to panic. "It can't be!" _

_ His brunette friend blinked at him, wondering just what had come over the special albino this time. The albino suddenly looked nervous and slowly walked back over to his friend, a frown on his face._

_ "Ah… I have a question to ask…" the albino muttered. "You're a boy, right…? Like you have one of these?" he gestured to his crotch awkwardly and the other boy rose an eyebrow._

_ "What kind of question is that? Of course I do!"_

_ The albino let out a breath of relief, chuckling awkwardly. Great; that meant that he didn't just violate his friend… "Of… of course! Yeah! There's absolutely no way you wouldn't have one! There's no way you could be a girl!"_

_ The brunette still looked confused. "What were you trying to accomplish by asking about that? You shouldn't worry about the small stuff!" his expression brightened considerably as he patted his friend on the shoulder. "Just relax! Everyone grows one when they get older anyways!"_

_ So much for relief…_

_ The albino's jaw dropped open. No way…! So that meant that he was really… "Y-you're a g-gir-…" he couldn't even bring himself to say the words as his friend laughed hysterically. "No way… This has got to be a joke… Wait, who told you about this 'growing' stuff?"_

_ "Don't tell me you didn't know that!" the brunette laughed, teasing his friend. "You really are just a little kid!"_

_ "No… you're wrong…" the albino muttered, looking like he had seen a ghost. "I hate to say this but that doesn't…"_

_ "Sir!" a guard called down to the brunette. "I spotted some suspicious people over to the east!" _

_ "Turkey again?" the brunette asked in surprise, expression turning sour. _

_ "Uh… but… I still need to-!" the albino protested but was cut off._

_ "Alright then," the brunette said to the soldier. "I'll go and kick their sorry asses!"_

_ "Hey, Hungary!" the albino snapped, trying to get his friend's attention. "Hold on! Listen to me for a second…! You're wrong about that growing stuff!"_

_ "Ah, man…" Hungary chuckled, walking off. "You're really funny, you know! My chest pain seems to have gone away too… but still…" the small nation paused and turned around to face the other with a grin. "Thanks for listening and talking with me today!" The albino blinked, surprised. "One more thing… let's keep today a secret between the two of us! This is a promise between men!" Hungary turned back around and grabbed her hair, pulling the ponytail tight with a determined expression. "Well, I'm going to go kick some ass now!" she ran off into the distance, leaving the albino standing where he was. "Hey! I'm not gonna do your job for you, so move it!"_

_ The albino kept still, looking anxious and horribly disturbed. So did that mean that Hungary was really a… a girl…? He looked at his small hands, the same ones that had touched the other's chest. So then… that meant…_

_ "Gaaaaahh!" he fell to his knees, bowing his head and shaking it around. "Forgive me, God! I didn't know that was a woman's chest!"_

…

Izaya's red eyes fluttered open slowly as he was roused by the sound of rain hitting the windows. He glanced around, reassessing himself with his surroundings. Ah yes, he was on a plane… He glanced at the other passengers, wondering if they were still awake or not. America had slid down his seat, legs sticking out in front of him as he slept with one hand inside his jacket. Izaya snorted at this; the blond was probably gripping his .45.

_Talk about sleeping with a gun… _the informant thought and turned his attention to Japan.

The Asian nation was fast asleep as well, his head resting against his window. Japan looked amazingly peaceful as he slept, expressionless and motionless. Izaya's eyes then slid over to Shizuo, who was slumped over in his seat, blond locks falling into his eyes. The informant snorted; even that monster was asleep…

"I guess I'm the only one awake, huh?" he whispered to himself, watching the rain fall outside of the plane. It appeared that they had flown into a small shower on their way to Cairo and for some reason, the sound of rain drops on glass eased Izaya into a state of peace. "That dream… what was it about…?"

"_It wasn't a dream…_"

Izaya's eyes widened as he looked at the window, seeing the face of Gilbert Beilschmidt where his reflection should have been. "Y-you! What are you doing here?"

"_Are you really asking that question?_" Gilbert snorted.

"You just took me by surprise, that's all…" Izaya said defensively. "Now what did you say about that strange dream again?"

"_It wasn't a dream,_" Gilbert repeated. "_It was a memory. That was when we were a young country, part of the Teutonic Knights. The other nation was Hungary. We were good friends when we were younger._"

"So that really was a girl…" Izaya muttered and then glared at the albino. "You molested a woman."

"We _molested her, _dumkopf_…_" Gilbert snorted, turning red. "_And I didn't know, okay? You should have seen that in the memory…_"

"Alright, alright… I'll stop teasing you…" Izaya sighed. "So then, is there anymore you can tell me about Hungary? You did say we used to be friends with her…"

"_Well… when we were younger, she thought she was really a boy,_" Gilbert recalled. "_I never knew why but it was probably because she needed to protect herself all the time. She was also surrounded by men most of the time so that may have been the cause of some of it…_"

"Anything else?"

"_…The only other thing that I can think of is that she's pretty damn tough from her times of being a warrior,_" Gilbert said, smiling softly. "_For her, everything is a weapon… especially a frying pan. She's the strongest woman I've ever known and doesn't lack in the looks department either…_"

Izaya blinked, watching Gilbert's expression changing as he talked about the nation by the name of Hungary. The nation's eyes had grown soft and a small smile graced his lips. It was then that a thought occurred to the informant. "Do you love her?"

Gilbert blinked in surprise, caught off-guard by the question, and then his lips slowly melted into a sad smile. "_At one point in time. My love was unrequited however. She's with someone else now… at least, I think she is…_"

"I see…" Izaya muttered, a great feeling of loss washing over him. "Damn… Lost love really sucks, doesn't it…?"

"_That is does_," Gilbert sighed sadly. "_But, you know, we must move on. Other fish in the sea and all that shit._"

"True…" Izaya nodded, chuckling dryly as he watched the rain slide down the windows. "You know, I'm wondering how much things will change once we get to the Netherlands…"

"_I can't really say what will change but I know it'll be big…_" Gilbert said.

"So in other words, we're both in the dark."

"_But of course. We're both one and the same._"

"Pretty much…"

"Flea, will you just shut up?"

Izaya looked over his shoulder to see Shizuo glaring at him, hazel eyes trying to burn a hole in his skull. "_Ohayo, _Shizu-chan~! I thought you were asleep~!"

"I was…" Shizuo growled. "But you woke me up with your stupid muttering. Who were you talking to anyways?"

Izaya's eyes flickered back to the window and found that Gilbert had disappeared. "I… um… no one… I was just talking to myself…"

Shizuo blinked at him and then rolled his eyes. "I always knew you were crazy… talking on a twelve hour flight while everyone's trying to sleep."

"Twelve hours, huh?" Izaya mumbled. "How long has it been so far?"

"Dunno…" Shizuo sighed, rubbing his eyes as he pulled out his phone. "Well, according to this, we've been in the air for six hours…"

"We really slept that long…?" Izaya asked, a tad surprised.

"Ha, that's nothing!" America chirped from behind them. "Wait until jet-lag sets in!"

There was a slight pause and…

"When the hell did you get over here?" Shizuo shouted in surprise, jumping back. "I didn't even see you wake up!"

"Waking up about now is built into my system," America smiled. "It's a side-effect of watching and keeping up with too much American Idol."

The two other men made sure to slowly scoot away from the nation.

"Regardless, we still have six hours before we land in Cairo," America explained, becoming serious again. "Due to that car chase however, we'll be moving faster than what we first thought. Only one day in Egypt tops and then we're out of there."

"Sounds good…" Izaya nodded.

"Sounds awful…" Shizuo snorted. "Jet-lag is going to be hell."

"Jet-lag is the least of our problems," America said. "All we need to worry about is to get to the Netherlands safely. Nothing else matters."

"Well, if that's the case, I'm going to take as much time as I can sleeping…" Shizuo snorted. "I need to take a piss… where's the bathroom?"

"Down the aisle and to the left," America instructed and the bodyguard stalked off to the restroom.

Izaya sighed in relief; finally, the protozoan was gone…

"So who were you talking to?" America suddenly asked.

Damn, forgot about that one…

"How did you…?"

"I was awake way before Shizuo was, to tell the truth," the blond nation admitted. "Back to my question…"

Izaya let out a sigh. "You won't think I'm crazy, will you?"

"Course not," the American chuckled. "All us nations are crazy to some extent so I wouldn't think any less of you. You'd be more like a comrade in arms."

"Alright then…" the informant sighed. "I was talking to Gilbert."

"Ah… so you _do _talk to yourself…"

"Shut up…" Izaya growled.

"All jokes aside, I'm glad he was the one you were talking to instead of someone else," America said, sitting down next to the informant. "Japan told me all he knows about you and I guess the word going around is that you're pretty slippery. Just wanted to keep an eye on you to make sure you weren't doing something behind our backs…"

"You…" Izaya frowned once he figured out just what the American had suspected him of doing. "Did you really think that I would have organized something like that?"

"Well, now I don't," the blond nation smiled. "But… I guess I entertained the thought of you being a different person. After all, you've been gone for so long and living in different conditions. These things happen after all…"

Izaya blinked at him. Truthfully, he couldn't blame him for his suspicions but, for some odd reason, it hurt. "I admit, I don't really remember how I was as Gilbert but… I don't think I've changed too much."

"That's good," America smiled. "I know Ludwig was worrying about that a lot… He'll be relieved to know that."

Izaya nodded, slightly out of it at the moment. Ludwig… his brother… It was so strange thinking of the blond German in that light. At that moment, a million questions went through his head: how close had they been, who was the eldest out of the two of them, did they have anymore siblings, did they have a falling out before Gilbert had disappeared?

"Hey, dude? Izaya?"

"Eh…?" the informant snapped out of his thoughts, blinking at the American. "Sorry… I was just thinking… lost in thought…"

The blond smiled sympathetically at the informant. "How about you get some more sleep? We have about six more hours until we reach Cairo and trust me, you'll need it."

Izaya nodded quietly as America went back to his original seat. Cairo, huh? Maybe he could walk through a museum to get a glimpse of the ancient times of the country… or maybe there was someone there, a friend, that knew him… With these thoughts, he slowly drifted off to sleep once more.

…

"What the hell? Why is it so fucking bright…?"

"Because Egypt is seven hours ahead of Japan, protozoan," Izaya snorted at Shizuo. "It's still in the afternoon over here…"

"I'm really going to hate this traveling thing…" Shizuo growled as he slid his sunglasses onto his face.

"Here we are, Cairo, Egypt," America smiled, the expression on his face brighter than the sun. "Well, let's go ahead and get going… Past five anyways…"

"Not so fast, America-san," Japan put a hand on the other's shoulder. "We're waiting for Egypt-san, remember?"

"Ah yes!"

"Egypt?" Izaya asked while Shizuo growled, "Another one?"

"Yes," Japan nodded. "He is going to be housing us until we move on."

"That's… nice…" Shizuo mumbled. "So, how are we going to know it's him when he gets here?"

"Trust me, you'll know," America smiled and glanced at Izaya. "I have a feeling someone will recognize him…"

Izaya blinked at the blond nation, slightly confused. Did America really expect him to recognize someone he probably hadn't seen for more than two decades…?

As they walked out of the airport terminal, Izaya's wine-red eyes landed on two people waiting outside. One of them was rather short with tanned skin and golden-brown eyes, his hair dark and cut very short. He wore a rugged pair of light blue jeans as well as a white no-sleeved hoodie. Golden bracelets adorned his wrists and his left ear had a small golden earring wrapped around the cartilage.

Next to him stood a taller man with shoulder-length wavy brown hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes. He was wearing an un-tucked white T-shirt under a long-sleeved tan jacket with matching pants. What caught Izaya's eye the most was the strange curl that came from the top of the man's head, the piece of hair swaying gently every time the man moved.

Izaya stared at the two men for the longest time, feeling like he knew them from somewhere. Was this what America had meant…? As he stared at them, he failed to notice that he had stopped in his tracks and Shizuo nearly bumped into him.

"Oi, flea…" he growled as he pushed past. "Move your ass…"

America and Japan, however, had noticed the trance Izaya was in and the blond nation couldn't help but smile.

"I think we've found our gracious host…" he said, blue eyes sparkling as he waved to the two men. "Yo, dudes! Over here!"

"There you are…" the taller man said in a soft, Greek-accented voice. "We were wondering when you would arrive…" He looked at Japan, his mouth melting into a smile. "Hello, Kiku."

"Heracles-kun," Japan smiled.

"So I assume you got here safely?" Heracles asked.

"We had one slight set-back," Japan admitted. "But we were able to get Orihara-san here safely."

"Perfect…" Heracles smiled, turning to Izaya. "You must be Mr. Orihara. I'm Heracles Karpusi. It's nice to meet you."

Izaya shook his hand slowly, noticing that the other's grip was relaxed and rather calming. "_Hajimemashite…_ You… are you one too?"

Heracles glanced at Japan, who nodded in approval, and then nodded at Izaya with a small smile.

"You're Greece, aren't you?"

"Correct," Greece smiled. "You're very perceptive… but, then again, you probably still have a bunch of memories that you may not know are in use."

"Yeah… I guess…" Izaya muttered, his eyes drifting over to the smaller man. So if the man in front of him was Greece, then this one had to be… "So this is…?"

"You assume correctly, my friend!" America beamed, walking over next to the short, tan man and putting an arm around his shoulders. "This right here is Gupta Muhammad Hassan or, as he's more commonly known, the Arab Republic of Egypt."

**Side-notes: Nebula (incorrectly translated in the English dub as "Nebra") is an American-based company that researches strange beings, such as immortals. In Durarara, they're interested in Celty and her head. Nebula is also present in Ryohgo Narita's other work, Baccano so there may be some references to that series later on.**

**The dream that Izaya had is straight out of Prussia's childhood diaries, almost word-for-word but I believe I tweaked it a bit. If you haven't seen it, look up Prussia's Diary of Awesome Me on YouTube. Trust me, it's worth it. XD **

**Well, that's it for this installment! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and keep watch for the next one!**


	12. Chapter 11: Newcomer

**-rises from the ground- I liiiiiiiiiiiiive! It's really been too long, hasn't it? I'm sorry for the delay but work started to consume parts of my life and when I had the free time, I never had the motivation to write. Gomen! DX I finally got this chapter pumped out after a long period of looking at this and other projects and trying to figure out what to do. So here it is! I hope you all enjoy!**

**(Can you say filler...?)**

Chapter 11

Newcomer

Izaya flopped down on the bed in Egypt's house, relieved to feel a nice cushioned object beneath his body. Egypt had been kind enough to drive them all the way to his humble home on the outskirts of Cairo so they could spend the night there before catching their plane the next day. Once they had gotten to Egypt's house, Izaya had made a beeline to the guest room and ignored everyone else, desperate for some proper sleep.

"Thank god…" he groaned. "A bed…"

As he proceeded to bury his head in the pillows, a low growl came from the doorway.

"Damn flea… Such a lazy ass…"

Izaya peeked out from the pillows to glare at the blond. "Shut up, Shizu-chan… I'm tired…"

Shizuo rolled his eyes and snorted, placing his luggage on the ground as he glared at the other bed in the room. "I can't believe I have to share a room with _you_. I'm going to end up smelling like flea…"

"Now, now, Shizu-chan~" Izaya purred, lifting his head and putting his legs in the air. "You're my bodyguard, remember? You have to be with me so you can protect me!"

Shizuo growled something unintelligible and began to dig something out of his bags. Izaya smirked and buried his face in his pillow once more, waiting for sleep to take him. However, it soon became apparent that he would not be getting to sleep anytime soon because Shizuo had started mumbling curses under his breath.

"What the hell is your problem…?" the informant asked sleepily, glaring at Shizuo again.

"I can't figure out how to get this thing connected to the internet…" the blond growled, Shinra's laptop in his hands.

"Why do you want to get on the internet?"

"I want to talk to Shinra," the blond said. "He wanted me to contact him once we got off the plane."

Izaya sighed and rolled off the bed, moving to sit next to Shizuo. The blond shot him a glare but didn't protest against the informant being there.

"Have you ever done this before?" the brunette asked and Shizuo shook his head slowly. "Alright then… Well, I now see that Shinra should have entrusted this to me." A low growl rumbled from the blond's throat. "Alright, alright… fine. I'll get started on this. You see the bottom right corner of your screen? There should be a little icon of a bunch of bars. Click on that, look at the available networks, choose one, and ta-da! You're done. Can I sleep now?"

Shizuo nodded and Izaya flopped on the bed again, letting out a deep sigh. _Sleep__… __Wonderful,__ beautiful __sleep__…_

"What… what network do I want…?" the blond suddenly asked.

"For the love of-!" Izaya growled, pushing himself up to glare at Shizuo. "You know what, protozoan? Go ask Egypt! _He _probably knows! Now leave me alone so I can get some sleep!"

Shizuo glared at the informant through his azure sunglasses and briefly considered chucking the laptop at the little bastard. Instead, he took a deep breath and rose from his seat, computer in hand.

"Fine… I'll go talk to him…" he snorted and left the room.

The informant let out a long sigh and buried his face in his pillows again, hugging them close to his body. As he tried to drift off to sleep, Izaya's mind wandered back to some of the things Gilbert had told him earlier, about his past as a nation. So there were more people like him, one for each country of the world… no, he could sense that there were more than just countries; he just couldn't tell what the other immortals represented. States, micronations? Frustration grabbed at his insides; _why__ couldn__'__t __he __remember?_ He needed to know everything about his past and as an informant, he hated not knowing about something.

Slowly letting go of his frustration, Izaya started to slip into a peaceful sleep, the world around him slowly melting away as he fell into his subconscious. A new reality began to form in front of his eyelids as he slept, multiple shapes and colors blurring together to form a scene that he could comprehend. The first thing he noticed were two bright blue eyes staring down at him, framed by fair skin and blond hair. It was then that a strange feeling came upon the informant; not as if he were in pain but instead, he knew that he was supposed to be hurting in his dream.

_"__Gilbert__…" _the blond man in the dream said, his voice barely above a whisper. _"__I__'__m __sorry__… __I__'__m __so __sorry__…" _

_For __what__…__? _Izaya thought as he watched the blond man apologize over and over again. _And __my __name__'__s __not__… _He then realized that what he was experiencing was not a dream but a memory, one of Gilbert's memories.

All of a sudden, Izaya felt a rush of excitement. This was his chance to learn more about his past as a nation! As he watched the scene play out in front of him, he made sure to absorb every single detail that was set before him. As the blond man, who he identified to be Germany, apologized over and over, Izaya spotted a blood red flag nearby with a swastika in the middle. The Nazi banner; so this was taking place in the forties…

_"__Gilbert__… __Gilbert__…" _Germany was saying to him, gently shaking his shoulders. _"__Hey__… __stay __with __me__…"_

_ What __else __is __there__…__? _Izaya thought, desperately glancing around for something else; an anchor of some sort. _There__'__s __got __to __be __something __else __that __will __tell __me __what__'__s __going __on. _He looked at Germany's worried face again. _There__'__s __something __going __on __with __me __in __this__… __Am__ I__ dying? __No__… __Sick? __Maybe__… __What __could __be __happening__…__?_ The scene before him started to blur and Izaya panicked, not wanting to let go of this vital information. He clung tight to the memory, trying to keep it in front of his mind's eye. _No!__ I __can__'__t __let __this __get __away __from __me, __not __now!_

"What the HELL are YOU doing here?" a voice shouted, penetrating Izaya's subconscious and rousing him from his sleep.

The informant blinked the clouds away from his eyes and looked around, realizing almost immediately that he had been pulled away from what was probably his only chance for getting more information about Gilbert. He cursed bitterly and rolled off of the bed he was laying on, deciding to see what the commotion was about. Before he could leave the room, Shizuo came back with a slightly miffed look on his face.

"What a fucking asshole…" the blond grumbled. "Just when I needed to ask a question…"

"…Do I want to know?" Izaya asked and Shizuo shot him a rather venomous look. "Did you find out what you needed to?"

"Yes…" Shizuo snorted. "But not without a lot of… patience…" he growled the last word, practically forcing it through his teeth as he worked on setting up the webcam on the laptop he had.

Izaya just rolled his eyes and left the room, walking to where he had heard the yell. As he neared the front room, he could make out three voices echoing down the hall. The first two he recognized as Greece and Japan. The third… sounded so familiar but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Whatever was going on, it sounded like Greece and this new person were arguing about… something and Japan was desperately trying to get them to calm down.

He finally rounded the corner to the front room and found Greece being held by collar of his shirt by a tall man in a dark green sweatshirt. Despite being held in such a threatening way, the Grecian nation looked oddly calm, silently glaring at the new-comer with intense green eyes.

"Get out," Greece grunted firmly.

"Who says I have to?" the other man spat. "I came here to welcome Japan!"

"As did I…"

"Who gives a shit about you? I didn't even want to see you today!"

"The feeling's mutual…"

"Wait…! Please, don't do anything rash!" Japan stuttered from the side, looking quite flustered. "Th-there's no need for fighting, especially not over me!"

"You know, you should stop trying to steal my friends!" the man in the green sweatshirt spat, ignoring Japan completely. "First Japan… and now Egypt!" The silent country in question simply rolled his eyes at the remark and left the room to make some tea. "Stop poking your nose where it doesn't belong!"

"For your information, I came here at Egypt's invitation," Greece replied calmly. "He knew Japan was coming with Gilbert and America and knew I would want to see him."

"Oh, so he invited _you_ and not _me_?" the man growled, pulling Greece closer. "You know what, you little shit? I've just about had it with… wait, did you say Gilbert?"

At that moment, Izaya felt something inside himself yearn for him to move forward and before he knew it, he was inside the room looking between the two and feeling very much out of place. Japan, who had given up on the arguing pair, finally noticed him.

"O-Orihara-san!" Japan squeaked, surprised at his arrival.

Upon hearing what Japan had said, Greece and the yelling man turned to look at the new person in their midst. It was at this time that Izaya got a good look at the yelling man's face. His skin was an olive color and his eyes were an entrancing light brown, almost bronze. Slight stubble encased the man's chin and his dark hair was cut very short and rather close; the informant took notice of a small, strange curl a lot like the one that Greece had that stuck out on the nape of the man's neck. He looked rather familiar; not as familiar as Japan or Germany but Izaya swore he had seen that man before.

_Could __it __be __that __this __is __another __nation__…__?_

"I didn't see you there…" Greece muttered to Izaya, causing the informant to turn his attention to him. "How long have you been there…?"

"Not… very long…" Izaya muttered, his eyes drifting back over to the yelling man.

"I see…"

"Who's this guy?" the yelling man asked, raising a thick eyebrow at the informant.

Izaya imitated the look and shot it at the yelling man, showing that he was wondering the same thing.

"Sadiq-san, this is Izaya Orihara," Japan told the man. "We're taking him to the Netherlands because we believe he's Gilbert."

Sadiq, as Japan had called him, blinked at Izaya, his bronze eyes scanning every inch of the informant's body. "Huh… I guess I can see the resemblance…" his eyes finally settled on the silver part in Izaya's raven hair. "Ah. I guess that just about proves it, doesn't it? Nice to meet you again, Gilbert… or Mr. Orihara. My name's Sadiq Adnan. You'd probably know me better as Turkey." He held his hand out for Izaya to shake.

Izaya slowly took his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you too…" _Turkey__… _So this was Turkey… That kind of explained why he and Greece were arguing earlier. "And please, call me Izaya…"

"Alright…" Turkey said, looking a little confused as he turned to Japan. "How much has he forgotten…?"

Japan glanced between Turkey and Izaya and back again, looking concerned. "Let's talk about that later, Sadiq-san… Orihara-san?"

"Yes?"

"We're only going to be here for a day but I'm sure you'll want to see some of the sights here," Japan offered. "Would you like to go see them?"

"Sure…" Izaya answered cautiously.

"Great!" Japan beamed. "I'll get Egypt-san and America-san to go with you."

"Got it…" Izaya sighed; _of__ course_ he couldn't go alone…

"Do you want to get Heiwajima-san as well?"

Shizuo too? "Fine, I guess…" Izaya grunted, turning away to head back to the room. It was going to be a long trip to the Netherlands…

…

Shizuo felt quite proud of himself. He had gotten the webcam set up and was now fit and ready to contact Shinra. Now if only he could figure out how to use the software…

"Oi, protozoan!" Izaya called sharply, poking his head into the room. "Get off your ass! We're going sight-seeing!"

Shizuo nearly broke the computer after Izaya disappeared.

That… damn… _flea!_

One of them was going to be dead by the time they got to the Netherlands and dear god, Shizuo was looking forward to it…


	13. Chapter 12: Sightseeing

Chapter 12

Sight-Seeing

_Why__ is __it __that __it__'__s __still __hot __even__ when __the __sun __is__ going __down__…__? _Izaya asked himself, wiping the sweat from his brow.

At that moment in time, Izaya, Egypt, America, and Shizuo were walking through the streets of Cairo, taking in all the sights that Egypt had to offer. While the thought of taking a look at a country with a vast amount of history like Egypt was nice, the informant couldn't help but feel like Japan had wanted him to get out of the Arab nation's home so he could share a few words about him without him being there.

_Glad __I __could __take __part __in __the __conversation__… _Izaya thought sarcastically, adjusting the head scarf wrapped around his head and shoulders. He had insisted on borrowing something to protect his pale skin from the sunlight, mainly due to the fact that he hated becoming as red as a lobster. It also didn't help that he was still wearing his usual black ensemble. _At __least __I __left __my __jacket __at __the __house__… _

"Duuuuuude!" America called out, pointing wildly at the building ahead. "There's the museum! We should totally go there next! That's where you've put most of your mom's stuff, right?"

Egypt nodded silently, unfazed by America's loudness.

"Great! Let's go!" the blond nation said and practically sped off to the museum, Egypt and the other's trailing behind them.

"A place with air conditioning…" Izaya sighed. "Wonderful…"

"Stop whining," Shizuo snorted as he walked past. "It's your fault you didn't change into something more suitable for this heat."

"Don't you start with me, Shizu-chan," Izaya shot back, narrowing his eyes. "You're feeling pretty hot yourself, I can tell." He pointed a pale finger at Shizuo's unbuttoned shirt collar and rolled up sleeves.

Shizuo shrugged casually, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, it's warm but it's not _terrible_. Just grow some balls and let's get moving, kay?"

Izaya glared daggers at Shizuo's back as the blond walked off. Stupid protozoan, thinking he knew everything… _I__'__ll__ show __that __bastard__… __I__ don__'__t __know__ how __but __I __will__ get __the __upper__hand__…_

As the informant trudged angrily after Shizuo, a man dressed in casual clothes and sunglasses stepped out of the shadows. He watched the group of four walk into the museum and then pulled out a cell phone, dialing in a number as fast as he could.

"It's me," he said once the person on the other line picked up. "I've located the target…"

…

"So he doesn't remember a thing?"

Japan shook his head. "To an extent, he does remember certain things but it's clear that his memories are scattered."

"This is troublesome…" Turkey muttered, picking up a cup of tea. "How much does Ludwig know about this?"

"He knows everything," Japan explained. "He knows that Gilbert remembers almost nothing and that it will take time for him to recover all of his memories."

"I guess that's a good thing," the former empire sighed. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"Not at all…"

"I see…" Turkey murmured and cast his bronze eyes to his tea, watching the heated liquid swirl around.

The entire room fell into silence at that moment; Turkey focused on his tea and Japan looking at the ground. Greece sat on a couch nearby, stroking a calico tabby thoughtfully as the silence continued.

"So… what are you going to do with him?" Turkey finally asked, locking eyes with Japan.

"That will be decided in the Netherlands," the Asian country said.

"Then the right decision has to be made, you know…" Turkey sighed, turning rather serious. "This is someone's life we're talking about here. A couple decades ago, Gilbert left for a reason. Along the way, he somehow forgot everything and made a new life for himself. The person we once knew as Gilbert has now taken on the name of Izaya Orihara and might as well be a completely different person."

"What are you trying to say…?"

"Kiku…" Turkey sighed, running a hand through his hair. "How do we know we're not compromising someone else's happiness?"

Japan blinked at this, taken aback. He had never thought of that before. He had only seen Germany's heartbreak over losing his brother and forgot to consider what Gilbert might have wanted when he had left home. For all he knew, Gilbert may not have truly wanted to return to life among the nations. Now that he thought about it, Gilbert would correct them when they called him by his true name and insisted on being called Izaya instead.

_Maybe __he __never __truly __wanted __to __return __to __this__… _Japan thought. _Was __I__ just __focusing __on __what __I__ thought __best __for __Ludwig-san __instead __of __Gilbert-san__…__?_

"I agree with Turkey… for once," Greece piped up, causing Japan to break out of his thoughts.

"What's that supposed to mean, you little brat…?" Turkey growled half-heartedly, glaring daggers at the Grecian. Greece glared back at the Turk and the cat in his arms hissed at the other nation as well.

"You _are _right, Sadiq-san…" Japan sighed, causing the two others to end their glaring match. "I hadn't thought of that… To think that all this time, Gilbert may have wanted something else…" He lowered his eyes to the ground. "I feel like an awful friend…"

"Kiku, don't start to blame yourself…" Greece told his friend, walking over to place a hand on Japan's shoulder. "I'm sure a lot of people would have overlooked this. In fact, I bet Germany has overlooked this issue as well… and he's Gilbert's brother. You just wanted your friend back and Germany wants his brother back."

"That sounds… awfully selfish…"

"Don't worry too much about it, okay?" Greece said in a comforting tone, smiling gently. "You're reuniting Ludwig and Gilbert. What happens to Gilbert afterwards can be left entirely up to him."

"I… I see what you mean," Japan sighed. "Thank you, Heracles-kun."

Greece smiled again and took Japan's hand, kissing the knuckles softly and making the other nation turn bright red. "Don't you worry at all, Kiku. I'm here for you."

Turkey rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And to think, I'm going to be stuck with you two until Egypt gets back…"

…

"They're very beautiful…" Shizuo said to the nation standing next to him as they looked at some of the artifacts in display. "It's… just amazing to see something like this and think about how long it's been on this earth."

"They were made by my mother," Egypt told him, looking fondly at the small artifacts. "She could make anything out of clay and make it into something wonderful… truly a master of the arts."

Shizuo turned curious hazel eyes over to the soft-spoken nation. "Your mother?"

"Yes, Ancient Egypt," the Arab nation nodded. "She was better known as Khemet. From what I remember, she was very beautiful…"

"From what you remember?" Shizuo frowned. "What happened to her?"

"She died," Egypt said in a low voice, focusing on the ground with golden eyes. "All I can remember is that I was very young and she was very weak. One day she went to sleep and didn't wake up. That was when I started to fully represent this country."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Shizuo murmured. "I didn't know nations could have parents…"

"It's… hard to truly say where we nations come from…" Egypt answered. "I was born from my mother because a new era was coming. The empire was over; I was left to represent the left-overs. The same happened with Greece and his mother. I can't say if that is what happens with all nations or not. Maybe some of us just appear like we've just grown out of the ground. It's not something that's easy to logically explain."

"I see…" the blond muttered. "You said that your mother died. I thought nations were immortal."

"We are immortal to an extent," Egypt explained, touching the glass of the display case gently as he studied his own reflection. "We can live as long as the nation itself can. We cannot be killed by humans but depending on the situation, another nation can have the strength to kill us. If they destroy all that we stand for and represent, they destroy us as well. We can also die just from aging. If the society we represent gets so old that it can't support itself and withers away, then we grow old and disappear as well. We truly aren't that different from you humans. We are born, we age, we live, we love, and we die. The only difference is that we just live longer than any of you could ever hope too."

Shizuo nodded, slowly comprehending what Egypt had told him. The nations were truly unique and complex beings, so complex that they didn't even seem to know their own origins. As he thought about what the other had told him, he began to try to imagine Izaya in that light. Immortal but fully able to die… Born from nothing… Despite how mysterious and other-worldly the informant seemed, the bodyguard found it hard to picture Izaya as such a being.

Speaking of the little rat…

"Egy- I mean, Gupta," Shizuo quickly caught himself on using the nation's true name in public and went on. "What happened to Izaya?"

"I believe he wandered off with Alfred somewhere…" Egypt responded, looking around the museum blankly. "I didn't notice until now… I had a feeling it seemed too quiet…"

"Damn flea…" Shizuo snorted. "He'd better not get himself into too much trouble…"

…

Meanwhile, Izaya was following America around the museum as the blond tried to find something akin to a snack bar. The blond was keeping well ahead of the informant, darting back and forth at top speed. Izaya rolled his eyes at the spectacle.

_Driven __purely __by __his __stomach__… _he thought with a snort and started to fan himself with his hand.

Despite being in a building with air conditioning, he was still burning up. As America continued to look for a place to eat, Izaya started to look for a place to rest and cool off. His eyes slid over to his right and spotted a small bench. With a small sigh of relief, the informant wandered over to the bench and stood right under the air conditioning vent, letting out a groan as he plopped onto the bench. He closed his eyes as the cool air blew on him, cooling off every inch of his body. He took the headscarf from his head and allowed it to settle around his shoulders, revealing the silver part in his hair. He finally felt the effects from the heat and the jet-lag overtake him and started to drift into sleep.

"_Haben __Sie __Spass __an__ sich __selbst?_" a voice asked; 'Are you enjoying yourself?'

"_Ja,__ ich __bin __wohl__…_" Izaya answered immediately without thinking; 'Yes, I'm at ease…' His eyes snapped open once it finally sank in that he wasn't alone anymore.

Looming above him was a tall man wearing normal clothes and sunglasses, looking down at him as the informant relaxed on the bench. Izaya tensed up, staring up warily at the mysterious man. Who was this man and how did he know Izaya could understand German?

"Who are you?" Izaya asked the man in English, eyeing him cautiously.

"You're Izaya Orihara, correct?" the man asked.

Izaya narrowed his eyes at the man's response. "Depends on if you need to know or not… and you didn't answer my question."

"Now, let's not be difficult, Mr. Orihara," the man sighed. "Who I am is not of any importance."

"Really? I find that hard to believe…" Izaya challenged. "And how do you know who I am?"

"It's not that hard to figure out especially when you have a giant mark on your head…" the stranger motioned to the silver among Izaya's nest of raven hair.

The informant reached up and fingered the silver hair; he had completely forgotten about it and how much it made him stand out.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, Mr. Orihara," the man said seriously, adjusting his sunglasses.

"You're with the people who tried to take me in Ikebukuro, aren't you?" Izaya asked in a low voice, deciding that there was no trying to skirt around who he was anymore.

"Possibly…"

"Meaning yes," the informant interjected.

"Listen, Mr. Orihara, the people I work for would prefer for me to take you back unharmed. However…" the man reached into his pocket, grasping something firmly and making the outline known to the informant; a handgun… "I've been given permission to _improvise_…"

Izaya stared at the outline of the gun for a couple of seconds, telling himself to stay calm and keep a straight face. Improvise? Well, he could do that too… but then again, he was armed. "Really? You think you're going to try to intimidate me? Besides, I know you won't kill me. You need me _alive_, after all." He felt around for his knife and found that he had left it in his coat. Dammit, he would just have to keep on improvising…

"I know," the man said and started to look around the museum. "Maybe I could use someone as leverage. That small family over there or maybe that pregnant tour guide… If you come with me, a lot of lives will be spared."

Izaya's eyes narrowed. "So now you're trying the hostage tactic… How wonderfully original~! If you knew anything about me, nameless douchebag, you would know that I don't care enough. Besides, even if you did kill someone in here, it would only end in you getting your ass thrown in jail and me slipping under your nose."

The man frowned deeply, thrown off a bit by the informant's small speech. "Then I guess that leaves us with the first option…"

Izaya was about to make a witty remark when the mysterious man was upon him, a hand grabbing his collar and a gun pressed to his forehead. The informant froze, paralyzed by the sudden feeling of fear that rushed through his body.

_What __is __wrong __with __me? _he thought after freezing. _I__'__m _immortal_. __I __can__'__t __die. __Why __am__ I __afraid __of __getting __shot__…__? __I__… __I __can__'__t __move__…_

"You're coming with me, Mr. Orihara," the man muttered, punctuating his demands by pressing the barrel firmly against Izaya's head. "Now, you're going to stand up and walk out of this museum with me without any sort of fuss. Try anything funny and I shoot."

Izaya shot one last glare at the man but slowly stood up regardless. The man smiled softly in triumph and put the gun back in his pocket, placing a hand firmly on Izaya's shoulder as he steered him towards the exit.

"I knew you would see it my way, Mr. Orihara," the man whispered to them as they left. "Don't worry, I know quite a few people that you'll be safe with…"

…

_Dammit__… __Where __the __hell __did __they __go__…__?_

Shizuo and Egypt were wandering through the museum once more, searching for America and Izaya. What a horrible pairing system they had created; they had paired together the two people that were the most prone to wandering off. Perfect.

As Shizuo muttered expletives under his breath, Egypt spotted an all-too-familiar ahoge sticking up at a nearby food stand. With a deep sigh, the Arab nation quickly walked over to where he had spotted the ahoge.

"Where are you…?" Shizuo started but then spotted the ahoge as well and followed quickly.

"Alfred!" Egypt said in a surprisingly harsh voice when they found the American stuffing his face with fast food.

The blond looked up at them in surprise and then flashed them a bright smile, crumbs clinging to his cheeks. "Ohf hai gyuish! Watcha doinf?"

"Alfred… I can't understand…" Egypt started but Shizuo quickly interrupted him.

"Where's Izaya?" he demanded, pushing past the Arab nation.

America blinked at him and swallowed his food, the smile staying on his face. "Don't worry, dude! He's been with me the entire time! He's right behind…" the blond turned his head to look around and slowed his speech when he found that Izaya was no longer with him. "…me… Uhm…" he smiled sheepishly at Egypt and Shizuo. "Oops."

"Dammit…" Shizuo growled and tore away from the small group, trying to find Izaya.

As his hazel eyes scanned wildly around the museum, he spotted a familiar figure walking towards the exit. It was Izaya… but who was that with him? A tall man was grasping the informant's shoulder and it looked like he was trying to lead Izaya towards the exit. The scene didn't sit well with the bodyguard and he immediately started to move faster towards the two before unconsciously breaking into a jog.

"Izaya!" he called out and the informant turned to look at him, shocked at his appearance. The man turned to look at him as well and frowned deeply, pulling Izaya closer to his side. Shizuo's mind suddenly flashed back to the people that tried to corner them in Japan and all the pieces fell into place. _Dammit__… _"Izaya!"

The stranger cursed and quickly pulled Izaya out the door, reaching into his pocket as he did so. With a frustrated roar, Shizuo burst out the doors of the museum and raced after them, causing many a stander-by to gasp in shock. Egypt and America followed closely behind, the blond nation fingering his handgun.

"Dammit… I shouldn't have taken my eyes off of him!" America growled. "I bet whoever is behind this is affiliated with the people who chased us through Ikebukuro…"

"Then this has become even more serious," Egypt said. "Follow Shizuo and make sure he doesn't do anything rash. I'll try to contact Japan and keep all planes on the ground as well as close the borders."

"Got it," America nodded and raced after Shizuo like no tomorrow.

Ahead of the two nations, Shizuo was chasing after Izaya's kidnapper, taking large strides with his long legs. The man kept glancing back at him as he dragged Izaya away and was constantly surprised by how close the bodyguard was getting. With a small curse, the man stopped in his tracks and pulled his gun from his pocket, pointing and firing at Shizuo. The bullet only grazed the blond's side but the pain was enough to make him mad. With a low growl that quickly transformed into a loud roar, Shizuo quickly uprooted a lamppost and chucked at Izaya's kidnapper.

The man had obviously not been expecting Shizuo's tremendous strength for he stood still in shock, frozen in place with his mouth hanging open. Izaya took this moment to pull away from the man and rolled out of the way of the lamppost, suppressing a chuckle when he heard the surprised yelp of his kidnapper. Izaya quickly got to his feet and raced over to Shizuo, feeling relieved and embarrassed at the same time.

"Shizuo… you…" Before he could say anything else, a fist met his cheek and laid him flat on the ground.

"You dumbass!" Shizuo snapped. "What the hell were you thinking, wandering off like that?"

Izaya, who was holding his face in pain, whipped his head around to glare up at the blond. "_Excuse_ me? Do you think I _allowed _myself to be kidnapped?"

"I didn't say that…"

"You heavily implied it!" Izaya snapped, getting to his feet while still cupping his cheek.

"Listen, you little shit…" Shizuo growled. "There are people here taking the time out of their lives to protect _you _of all people. Try and show a little appreciation for once, got it?"

"Oh, so I can't go anywhere without an escort?" Izaya retorted. "I can take care of myself!"

"From what just happened, I seriously doubt that…"

"Will you just give it a rest, protozoan?" Izaya snorted, shooting daggers at the blond. "Why the hell do you care anyways? You don't even have to be here!"

"I made a _promise_," Shizuo hissed, bending slightly to meet the informant's eyes. "And if I remember correctly, you did too."

Izaya reeled back like he had been slapped, blinking wildly at Shizuo. He was surprised at how the blond had responded; he had actually managed to leave the informant speechless. At that moment, America came running up to them, hand in his jacket.

"There you two are!" he gasped. "What happened…?" he paused to look at the unconscious man a few feet away. "Oh… I see you already took care of it…"

"Do you think that there are anymore?" Shizuo asked the other blond.

America shook his head and let go of the gun in his jacket. "I doubt it. If there were, it probably would have been a lot harder for you to get to Izaya. My guess is that this guy came here early in hopes of catching us before we leave the country."

"What should we do with him?" the bodyguard asked.

"Turn him into the police for attempted abduction," America replied simply. "It'll keep him occupied and besides, him being a kidnapper is all the police need to know."

"Are you sure that will do enough?" Shizuo asked again.

"It'll do for now," Izaya grunted, hand still pressed against his cheek.

"Exactly," America agreed. "You two head back to Gupta's. I'll take care of this guy."

"Got it," Shizuo nodded and took Izaya's arm. "Come on…"

"Hey, Izaya… what happened to your face?" America asked as they walked away. "Did he get you there or something?"

Izaya glared at the America from over his shoulder. "He didn't hurt me… someone _else_ did…" He removed his hand to reveal a large bruise where Shizuo had punched him. "The brute hits hard. You see? It instantly bruised!"

"Normally I would feel sorry…" America said. "But somehow, I feel like you deserved it…"

"Thanks…" Izaya growled and Shizuo proceeded to drag him away once more.

"Dammit, flea… cover up your head…" Shizuo snarled, throwing the head cloth over Izaya's head so it covered his silver part. "You stand out too much without it. That's probably how he found you."

"Fine, fine! Just don't be so damn pushy!" Izaya snapped, fixing the cloth to make it look neat. "I can walk on my own, in case you didn't know."

"Don't care."

"You…!" Izaya stopped and ended the word in a sigh. "You're hopeless…"

"And you're stuck with me. Get used to it. And no running off anymore!"

"Alright, alright… give me a break," Izaya sighed, rubbing his temples. "Japan isn't going to be happy when he hears this…"

**Note: Khemet, according to the Hetalia wiki, is a name the fans will use to refer to Ancient Egypt. Khemet is also the name the Ancient Egyptians had for their country.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please review!**


	14. Chapter 13: Moving On

**So sorry that this took so long... The holidays just make you busy don't they? I hope you guys had a great Christmas and will have a great new year. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review!**

Chapter 13

Moving On…

"You _what_?" Japan practically squeaked when America and Izaya relayed the story of Izaya's near-kidnapping to him.

Izaya rolled his eyes with a snort, amused at how high Japan's voice could go. They were finally back at Egypt's humble home, most of the group gathered in the living room aside from Shizuo who had gone off to bandage his side and contact Shinra. America and Egypt had arrived shortly after Izaya and Shizuo had gotten back and the American, with Izaya interjecting every once in a while, had explained just what had happened on their little trip.

"Now, Kiku, I know what you're thinking… but this could have been a hell of a lot worse," America said to his friend, trying to calm him down.

"We almost lost him!" Japan squeaked. "I don't think I share your point of view!"

"But we _didn't _lose him," America sighed. "We got him back and the guy who tried to get him is in jail now. Crisis averted."

"America-san, it's not that simple!" Japan said, massaging his temples. "They know where we are now and exactly where to find him!"

"It was only one man," Izaya said. "He was alone. I doubt any of his buddies had shown up in Cairo before he tried to kidnap me."

"You're missing Japan's point, Izaya," Turkey frowned. "Just because that man was alone doesn't mean that his allies won't be able to find us. He had more than enough time to contact whoever he was working with and inform them of your location."

"If that's the case…" America's expression turned dead-serious. "We'll have to move faster than what we first intended. Whoever is after Izaya seems to know exactly where we'll be and where we're going. This has become some sick game of keep-away and a race combined…"

"Lovely," Izaya snorted. "This means more jet-lag and sitting closer to the blond brute, doesn't it?"

"Do you even have to ask?" America smirked and Izaya wished to whatever godly power that controlled the world to make that prick in front of him mortal for just one teeny-tiny second.

…

"Fucking finally…" Shizuo muttered to himself as he got his laptop up and running, ready to open the video chat program. As soon as the program popped up, a small bubble came up reading:

_Shinra3Celty is calling you. Accept?_

Shizuo rolled his eyes at the username. Of course Shinra would make up a ridiculous name like that… He clicked on the "accept" button and a small video screen popped up, showing Shinra's worried face.

"It's about time you got on!" Shinra chastised him. "What was going on? What were you doing all this time?"

"Relax," Shizuo snorted. "We got a bit side-tracked."

"Side-tracked?" Shinra rose an eyebrow. "How?"

"Well, we got to our flight later than planned because of some sort of blockade."

"For what? Police activity?"

"No. They tried to kill us."

"_What?_"

"But we got to Egypt fine afterwards," Shizuo recounted calmly. "Turns out that flea bastard is a pretty good shot…"

"Izaya shot a _gun?_"

"Anyways, I couldn't talk to you right after we landed in Cairo because the flea and his strange nation friends decided it would be good idea to play tourist," Shizuo continued, ignoring his friend. "Damn flea is so prone to almost getting kidnapped…"

"What? _Again?_"

"It wasn't that big of a deal…" Shizuo snorted, trying to keep Shinra calm. "He just tried to walk off with the flea and got the shit kicked out of him."

Shinra blinked at him. "Lemme guess… You're doing really well with your bodyguard job, aren't you?" He paused and then smiled. "Did ya give the guy a concussion?"

"Even if I did, I can't say he didn't deserve it…" Shizuo snorted, touching the side he'd recently bandaged. "He shot me, the bastard…"

"So why do you think someone's trying to get their hands on Izaya?" Shinra asked, suddenly looking very concerned. "Do… do you think they know about him?"

"I hadn't thought about that…" Shizuo frowned. "Maybe. Do you still have the blood sample?"

"Yes, I do. You must have read my mind," Shinra said. "I was just thinking of putting it under lock and key for a while. Don't want it falling into the wrong hands after all… Hey, how's Izaya doing after all of this?"

"Fine, I guess," Shizuo snorted. "He's still his annoying self so I would assume that he's doing just fine."

"Shizuo, are you sure?" Shinra frowned. "Maybe you should watch closer. Izaya has a unique way of showing his emotions. You won't know what's going on with him unless you pay attention."

"Alright…" Shizuo sighed. "I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Shizuo," Shinra smiled. "I should let you get some rest, given all the exciting things you've been through today."

"Not to mention the jet-lag…"

"That too," the doctor chuckled. "I'll take care of that blood sample and you get some rest. And, Shizuo?"

"Mm?"

"I know you don't like the idea very much but, please, take care of Izaya," Shinra said. "Other than Kadota and Celty, you and Izaya have been the only friends I've ever had. I'm sure you can understand what I'm saying…"

Shizuo sighed, staring at the floor as he absorbed what Shinra had said. The young doctor was right and Shizuo understood him perfectly. During his childhood, Shizuo didn't have many people lining up to be his friend due to his awful temper and brutish strength. He was alone most of the time and the only kid who dared to stand by his side was Kasuka, his brother. It wasn't until after he threw a desk at two kids that were making fun of him that Shinra noticed him. He could still remember the day that Shinra came up to him after class, smiling and holding his books as Shizuo stared at him, left arm in a cast. To this very day, the blond still doesn't know why he accepted Shinra's offer to be his friend but it happened and the strange boy never left him alone ever since. But despite how peculiar he was, Shinra had remained as one of Shizuo's greatest friend… even if knowing him led to knowing the bastard that was intent on ruining the blond's life.

Being so close to his friend, he knew that Shinra cared deeply for him and, likewise, cared deeply for Izaya as well. Regardless of what he thought of the flea, Shizuo had made a promise to Shinra and he wasn't planning on becoming the kind of man who would break his word.

"I know, Shinra," Shizuo sighed. "Don't worry. I'll keep the little bastard safe… but only because you asked."

A small smile of relief graced Shinra's face. "Thank you, Shizuo," he said gratefully. "Well… I'd better let you go know. Long day for you, after all. Say hi to Izaya for me!"

"If I must…"

Shinra chuckled one last time before waving goodbye. "Night, Shizuo! Hope you guys keep traveling safe and sound."

"Goodnight," Shizuo sighed and the screen went blank, soon telling him that the video chat had ended. He shut off the laptop closed the lid with a sigh, now feeling the fatigue setting in.

Before he could even do anything to prepare for retiring to bed, Izaya walked in the room, looking quite peeved and bone-tired. He glanced at Shizuo as he entered, his expression souring even more.

"I almost forgot…" he growled. "I have to share a room with you…"

"You can sleep in the hall if it's that much of a problem," Shizuo replied calmly, determined to keep Izaya from getting to him. The informant rolled his eyes and flopped onto his bed with a small groan, touching his still-bruised cheek tenderly. "By the way, I talked to Shinra."

"Oh really? How'd that go?" Izaya asked tiredly. "Did he scold you for beating on me, totally unprovoked?"

"No, I left that out," Shizuo said. "I just told him about our misadventures on the way here…"

"And he reacted like a mother hen, I'm assuming?"

Shizuo shrugged. "He seemed to take it pretty well."

"I don't know why he worries so much…" Izaya sighed. "I can take care of myself. You'd think that since I can go a round with you he'd know that I can hold my own…"

"This is Shinra we're talking about, remember?" Shizuo snorted. "He cares for you a lot… God knows why…"

"Yeah, yeah…" the informant rolled his eyes, unconsciously touching his bruised cheek. "I can understand that but… does he have to be so annoying about it?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Shinra bugging me? Of course not…"

"No, you dumbass, your cheek," Shizuo snorted. "Does it still hurt?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Izaya replied with a mocking smile which quickly turned sour. "What the hell does it look like?"

Without a word, Shizuo got up and left the room, leaving Izaya sitting on his bed in confusion.

"Where are you going?" the informant demanded after the blond left. "What, did you decide _you _were going to sleep in the hall instead?" Only silence answered him. "Well, fine! I'll just enjoy sleeping in this big room all by myself! I hope you get infected with some sort of rare disease by sleeping on that floor!" He paused for a minute, feeling like he had said enough but then realized that he could push the envelope a bit further. "And don't you dare come back in here! Enjoy your evening on the floor! Good riddance!"

"Good lord, would you shut up?" Shizuo growled as he walked back into the room, icepack in hand.

"I thought I told you not to come back," Izaya sniffed, turning up his nose at the blond.

"Well, excuse me, princess…" the blond snorted and rolled his eyes at the informant's attempt to glare at him. "Move over."

"If you think that I will acquiesce to your brutish demands then you are horribly mistaken," the informant sniffed again, turning his head away from the bodyguard.

Shizuo sighed and merely grabbed Izaya's collar, lifting him up and moving him over so that there was enough room for him to sit down. Once Shizuo sat next to him, the informant erupted into a vast amount of protests.

"What the hell was that? I did not ask to be manhandled! You know, I would have moved if you had just asked!"

"Well, I didn't ask and you were being an ass so I did things my way," Shizuo countered and took Izaya's shoulder so he could place the icepack on the other's cheek. "Here. This should help."

There was an abnormal moment of silence as Shizuo gently pressed the pack against Izaya's face, minding the informant's tender flesh. Izaya found himself staring at the blond, mainly his hazel eyes. Shizuo's eyes were different when he was being gentle. They were soft and tender… Quickly realizing where this was going, Izaya directed his eyes downward, away from Shizuo's face.

"Is that better?" Shizuo asked softly, his voice surprisingly calm and somewhat _caring_.

Izaya only nodded since there was a lump rising in his throat that was making it near impossible to speak.

"Good," Shizuo said and moved away, allowing Izaya to hold the pack to his face. "I'm going to get ready for bed…"

Now, it wasn't as if Izaya wanted to stare at Shizuo as the other man stripped. His eyes were just having some trouble obeying the commands his brain was sending them. He was just staring off into space, yeah, that was it. He had no interest in the blond's body, no sir…

But dear lord, those _abs!_

It would be a lie to say Shizuo's body wasn't worth admiring. With clothes on, he looked like the average twenty-or-so year old man; not scrawny but not looking very muscular either. But as he slipped his white dress shirt off his toned arms, an amazing set of abdominal muscles were revealed, nicely rounded and perfectly toned. It was amazing to see that his chest was so worked under that bartender uniform.

As Shizuo reached into his bag to pull out a shirt to sleep in, he noticed just how quiet Izaya was being and turned slightly to glance at the informant. "Hey, are you okay?"

Izaya snapped out of the trance he was in, blinking rapidly as he quickly focused on Shizuo's face. "Wh-what?"

"Are you okay?" Shizuo asked again. "You're awfully quiet. That's not normal for you."

"I… uh…"

"And your face is really red," the blond frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Izaya quickly averted his eyes and rubbed his neck nervously. "I… I think… I don't know. Maybe I'm… maybe I'm coming down with something. You know, this heat and the jetlag…"

Shizuo blinked at him, not totally convinced. "You'd better not get too sick or I'll kick your ass…"

Izaya held back a sigh of relief as Shizuo pulled on a white T-shirt. What on earth was that? Why on earth did Shizuo's abs…? Oh, those _abs_… No, no, no, no! He could have bashed his own head in just then. There was no reason for him to be thinking of the protozoan in that light. Yes, that was right… Shizuo was just a protozoan, a stupid oaf of a man that let the tiniest of things get to him. Besides, he _hated _Shizuo and Shizuo hated him.

After mentally reassuring himself, he turned back to Shizuo, who now was wearing baggy blue sweatpants instead of black slacks. The bodyguard put his sunglasses aside and turned to Izaya, brow raised.

"You going to go to bed too or what?" he asked.

"Why so eager to get me to retire?" Izaya asked. "Afraid I'm going to kill you in your sleep?"

"I should have known better than to ask you…" Shizuo sighed, rolling his eyes.

Izaya snickered evilly as he got to his feet and dug out his nightclothes. He quickly removed his pants and pulled on a pair of worn shorts and ankle socks. He began to remove his long-sleeved shirt, sliding it up his rib cage and revealing his milky skin.

"What the hell happened to you?" Shizuo suddenly asked, focused on the other's torso.

Izaya blinked in confusion and looked down at his torso, seeing the faded scars that marked his skin. "Ah yes, I had almost forgotten about these…"

"I didn't do that to you, did I…?" Shizuo asked, actually looking a bit concerned.

"Do you really think you landed that many hits on me?" Izaya asked rhetorically. "But no, these are from something… different…"

"Then what happened?"

"I really don't know…" Izaya sighed and thought back to when he talked to Germany and Japan for the second time. "Actually… Japan did show me some scars of his. I think these are all from my days as Prussia, all from times when the nation itself was wounded and torn by war…" He traced some of the scars with his fingertips, wondering just how many memories they held. He knew so little about his years as a nation and there were those scars, the memories of his life, etched on his body, taunting him as he tried to figure out what they meant and where they came from.

Shizuo's expression softened as he watched Izaya's eyes turned dark and longing, trying to search for something he didn't know. For once, he felt a little bad for the informant. Izaya just looked so lost and alone in that moment of realizing just how little he truly knew. The blond wanted so much to reach out and touch the informant, to silently let him know that he truly wasn't alone…

But that moment was gone as fast as it had came and Izaya jerked back to his awareness of the real world, returning to his usual self. "Well, enough of that…" he sighed and threw on a grey sweatshirt. "I'm too tired to start angsting like a teenager." He felt eyes upon him and glanced at his roommate to find that Shizuo was staring at him. "What?" he asked, cocking his hip and putting a hand behind his head. "Can't handle this much sexy?" The immediate response he got was a pillow being thrown into his face.

"Sh-shut up!" Shizuo spluttered and Izaya swore he could see a faint trace of red on the bodyguard's cheeks. "This is just seems really weird to me… You just… you just look so _normal_."

Izaya blinked at the blond, holding the pillow that had been thrown at him. Now that he thought about it, it must have been different to the bodyguard. After all, he had only seen Izaya in his usual black clothes and furred jacket ensemble and seeming him resembling a regular, everyday person… Actually, now that he thought about it, it was a bit strange to see _Shizuo _wear anything else but the bartender getup so they were pretty much even…

"I guess you do too," Izaya replied awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond. An awkward silence set in afterwards and that damned lump began to form in Izaya's throat again. "You… um… didn't get too hurt when that guy shot you…?"

"No… He just grazed me," Shizuo said, looking a little surprised at Izaya's try at concern. "I bandaged it up when we got back." He touched the area where he was shot gingerly. "I think it's stopped bleeding already…"

"Ah… that's…" Izaya paused to clear his throat. "That's good…"

There were another few minutes of silence and Shizuo cleared his throat to speak again. "This is pretty strange, isn't it?"

"The whole nation thing?" Izaya asked. "Yeah, it's been crazy so far…"

"No, not that," Shizuo said, shaking his head. "Didn't you notice that we haven't tried to kill each other yet?"

The informant felt a bit surprised. Once again, Shizuo had brought something up that Izaya had failed to notice. Damn, that protozoan was getting perceptive… "Oh… we haven't, have we?"

"It's… actually kind of nice," the blond said with a small smile and then glared at Izaya. "So don't ruin it."

"I wasn't really planning on it…" Izaya chuckled. "But now I'm terribly tempted to do so…"

"Whatever…" Shizuo snorted, pulling back the covers of his bed. "I'm going to go to bed before you become you again… Goodnight." The blond slid under the covers and pulled them over his head, back turned to the informant.

Izaya sighed and decided it was high time to get to sleep as well. But after he was in bed, covers pulled close and lights off, he couldn't help but think about how peaceful those last few moments with Shizuo were. It felt a little like they were two strangers getting to know each other rather than two life-long enemies bent on destroying the other. He couldn't help but feel that his relationship with Shizuo was changing because of this little trip and, for the most part, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Eventually, he pushed those thoughts away and tried thinking of something else, like the continuation of their trek to the Netherlands where he would be meeting his brother and after that, life would never the same and…

_Okay… Maybe that's not the best thing to think about now… _Izaya thought, putting his pillow over his head. _Can't think about the Netherlands… or the protozoan… Why did life decided to change all in one moment…?_

…

Celty came back to the apartment feeling bone-tired. It had been another full day of driving around Ikebukuro, searching for her lost head and once again coming up dry. She had stopped to talk with Mikado and Simon and even stopped by where she would talk with Shizuo every day until she remembered that he was with Izaya almost halfway around the world. Deciding to wrap everything up for the day, she rode her shadow motorcycle back to Shinra's only to be caught by the police on the way, resulting in a chase that must have lasted an hour or so. Once she shook them off and deemed it safe to return home, she rode to Shinra's, considerably farther away from the apartment than she was before.

Needless to say, she was immensely relieved when she made it into the apartment, slippers on her feet and helmet off. She was surprised to find that Shinra hadn't immediately greeted her at the door; he always knew when she was almost home and made it his duty to greet her when she got there.

_Where on earth is he…?_ she thought to herself as she searched for her high-strung lover, the smoke from her neck becoming thick with worry. _This really isn't like him… What if he's sick? Or injured? What if something happened to him? _The dullahan tried to swallow her fears as she searched through the apartment but could hold back no longer when she heard a cry of distress coming from Shinra's lab. _Shinra! _

Fearing the worst, she summoned her scythe to her hand and raced to the back room, prepared to fight off anyone who had dared to hurt Shinra. She threw open the door and was met with…

The sight of paperwork piled up in the middle of the floor with a familiar arm sticking out.

Celty rushed forward and grabbed the arm, pulling out the rest of Shinra Kishitani's body. The doctor came tumbling out of the pile of papers, looking rather embarrassed at the predicament he had gotten himself into.

"Celty!" he gasped. "I… I'm sorry…! I didn't hear you come in and all that paper…"

'What happened?' Celty asked, typing the question out on her PDA.

"I was just looking around for something that I swear I placed in here…" Shinra explained. "I couldn't find it on my desk so I went digging through everything else and… I… uh… kind of knocked over one of the filing cabinets…"

Celty started to shake her head. 'Only you could get trapped under a pile of paper…'

"Celty, don't tease me!" Shinra pouted as he tried to clean up the paper that was scattered all over the floor. "Oh, this is such a mess…"

'I'll say… I don't know how you managed this one…' Celty said. 'What on earth were you looking for anyways?'

"Izaya's blood sample," Shinra answered as he began to reorganize the papers. "I talked to Shizuo a few minutes ago and he reminded me of it."

'You did? How are they doing?'

"Fine as those two can be, I guess…" Shinra sighed. "They've almost been killed _two_ times already…"

'When did _that _happen?'

"Before they left Japan and after they got to Egypt," the doctor frowned. "As he was telling me about those incidents, Shizuo made me think of the sample and that it's probably best to lock it away somewhere so no one will get their hands on it… but I just can't find it!"

'Where did you put it last, Shinra?' Celty asked, hoping to help.

"After I took the sample, I put it on the desk next to my microscopes so I could find it later," Shinra told her. "I already looked there and couldn't find anything…"

'It's worth trying again…" the dullahan said and searched the desk, scanning the surface and looking under every single object on the desk. She searched thoroughly but found nothing resembling Izaya's blood sample. 'Do you know where else you could have put it?'

"I have no idea…" Shinra sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I can't believe it's gone…!"

'Well, retrace your steps,' Celty told him. 'What happened afterwards?'

"Izaya woke up and left, Shizuo went after him and when he came back my dad called…" Shinra stopped dead in his tracks. "My dad. Yesterday when he was here, I left to get something for lunch and he was here all alone… I had yet to put the sample away and he was here _alone._"

'Do you think…?'

"No, Celty, I don't think he took it…" Shinra sighed. "I _know _he took it… but the question is what did he do with it?"


	15. Chapter 14: Flashback

**This is really late... like three months late. It took me so long to get this chapter out and I'm sorry for that. But thank you to all of you readers who stuck around until this update. You guys keep me going! ^^ This chapter is a little like a filler chapter but I can assure you that this story is back in action and ready for some more updates! Please enjoy and thanks for reading, reviewing, and favoriting! **

Chapter 14

Flashback

_He had never felt so powerful. It was almost as if he were standing on top of the world, ruling over everything. What gave him so much pleasure? The mere defeat of one man. He stood tall above the man crumpled at his feet, smirking down at the beaten soul in front of him. Victory was so satisfyingly sweet._

_ "So, Austria… how does it feel to have Silesia taken away from you?" he asked the beaten man. "Do you feel defeated, absolutely hopeless?" he paused for an answer but got none. However, this still gave him the satisfaction he needed; no answer was as good as surrender. "Good. That's how I want you to feel." His face stretched into a crazy, wolfish grin. "So much for succeeding, huh? Now you finally know where you place is; under my boot." He punctuated his words with a rough shove of his foot, sending Austria to the ground._

_ "N-no…" the other man let out a shuddering breath. "It can't end like this… I won't let it…"_

_ "Too late for that," the victor chuckled darkly. "You can't possibly defeat me now. Your armies have fought valiantly and to what end? They are no match for the power I possess."_

_ "You're wrong…" Austria murmured from the ground as he tried to push himself up. "You can't hold me like this forever, Prussia…" he looked up at his opponent with determined violet eyes, glittering with life and spite regardless of the scratches and dirt caked on his face. "I will break free from you and until the day that I do, I will keep on fighting you."_

_ The grin fell away from Prussia's face and he glared down at Austria with deep red eyes, starting to look rather impatient. "You still don't get it, do you? You've lost! You're finished!" the wolfish grin was back, taking up every inch of his face. "Even England left you for dead! How pathetic! I admire you for proving just how full of piss and vinegar you are but in the end, it all amounted to nothing. You have failed."_

_ "You seem to underestimate how many other allies he has," a familiar female voice said._

_ Prussia turned to see a tall woman approaching, wearing a military uniform and long brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes were balls of emerald flame and held a musket in her hand, looking very threatening indeed. He recognized her right away; how could he not? He never forgot a face, especially as lovely and special as hers._

_ "Hungary… long time no see…" Prussia smiled, trying to mask his surprise at her assisting the broken man at his feet._

_ "Liza… what are you doing here?" Austria gasped. "I thought I told you…"_

_ "And I thought I told _you _that I wouldn't stand by if defeat seemed inevitable," Hungary told him, ignoring Prussia completely. "I'm here to help you, Roderich, and I'll put away my rifle when you are finally free."_

_ "Ooh, touching," Prussia clapped his hands mockingly, a snarky grin on his lips. "Now that you and little Roddy have reunited, shall we have a few words?"_

_ "I have nothing to say to you…"_

_ "Really? Are you sure? We might as well take the time we have now to get more reacquainted. After all, we barely talk anymore," the albino nation paused. "When did you send you last letter again…?"_

_ "I have _nothing _to say to you, Gilbert," Hungary hissed, turning to glare at him. "How dare you! You think that you can just waltz into other people's lives and try to make them bend to your will! When will you realize that you can't always have your way?"_

_ Prussia's eyes flickered with anger, glinting like rubies as he glared at his former best friend. The expression of anger was gone in a matter of minutes, replaced by a mocking smile. "Now, now, is that any way to talk to an old friend after being parted for so long? Can't we talk this out over a cup of tea? It would be appropriate for you, being a lady and all…"_

_ "Don't try to play games with me, Gilbert," Hungary spat, gripping the musket in her hand tightly. "I'm not a porcelain doll."_

_ "I truly couldn't have told the difference," Prussia smirked, sauntering over to the young woman. "Haven't you noticed how much little Roddy over there holds onto you? Face it, Eliza… You've been put on a shelf."_

_ That last remark was enough to push the female nation over the edge. She lashed out at Prussia, swinging the barrel of the musket towards him so the bayonet would be the first thing to hit him. The blade carved a long cut on his cheek and caught him off-guard, making it so he wouldn't anticipate the fist aimed at his stomach. Prussia crumpled to the ground after the punch and Hungary turned the butt of her gun on him, smashing his back and shoulders repeatedly. Soon enough, Prussia was reduced to the same state as Austria, beaten and bleeding at the feet of his opponent. _

_ Needless to say, he was surprised. He knew that back in the day, Hungary could beat up just about anyone that crossed paths with her but he had no idea that she still had it in her. He wrapped an arm around his sore abdomen as he tried to sit up but was stopped when pain suddenly coursed through him._

_ "Broke my ribs…" he coughed, one eye squeezed closed due to the blood coming down from his forehead. "You still have it in you, don't you…?"_

_ Hungary remained silent and pointed the musket at him, ready to shoot. "Give everything back. Return it all to Roderich or I'll…"_

_ "You'll what?" Prussia spat, glaring up at her with one scarlet eye. "Shoot me?"_

_ "It'll be a start…" the other nation growled, fighting the temptation to pull the trigger. _

_ The albino nation let out a dry chuckle. "It won't accomplish anything. I'll just come back."_

_ "But Silesia won't be yours and neither will Austria."_

_ Silence fell over them as Prussia realized she was right. If she beat him, she would be helping Austria win the war. If he fought back, she would kick the tar out of him and win anyways. Talk about a lose-lose situation…_

_ "Why?" he asked instead of trying to argue with her._

_ "What?"_

_ "Why did you side with _him_?" Prussia asked, sitting up despite the pain. "He's _weak_. He's ill-trained and alone. He's fit for failure! He's…!"_

_ "Not you," Hungary said, lowering her musket slightly. _

_ "Yes, exactly," the albino smirked. "He's not perfect, unlike me. So why…?"_

_ "I love him."_

_ Prussia paused. "Excuse me?"_

_ "I love him, Gilbert," she said, kneeling down next to Austria. "And he loves me in return."_

_ Prussia glared at the two, trying to hide his hurt. The girl that had once been his best friend had been taken by his enemy; just perfect. "My condolences, Eliza. Good luck surviving chained to his side!"_

_ Hungary ignored him as she helped Austria get to his feet. Austria looked grateful but there was a touch of worry in his eyes. Hungary shot one last look at Prussia and walked off with Austria, supporting her lover as they left._

_ "Y-you'll never be free again!" Prussia shouted, desperate to have the last word. "He'll cage you!"_

_ "Gilbert, give up already. You've lost." Hungary said, not even bothering to look back at him._

_ Prussia tried to shoot back a biting comment but nothing could come to mind. He could only sit on the ground, one arm wrapped around his bruised ribcage as he watched the girl that should have been his walk off with what he thought to be the wrong man. _

_ At that moment, he was unsure whether the battle he lost was the war or his possession of a woman he loved._

…

"Dammit, flea… Wake up!"

Izaya let out a rather embarrassing squeal as he was suddenly ripped from his bed and dumped onto the floor. He squirmed around in his blankets for a while, realizing that everything, sheets and all, had been pulled off his comfy bed and onto the floor. He poked his head out of the cocoon he had made and glared up at the culprit.

"Why aren't you dead yet?" he muttered tiredly, glaring up at Shizuo.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," the blond snorted, peeling off his white T-shirt and slipping on a white dress shirt. There was a slight pause and then Shizuo looked at Izaya again. "You were dreaming last night, weren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Izaya asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"You were making a lot of noise during the night and this morning before I woke you up," Shizuo told him. "Sounded like you were whimpering and I think I heard you mumble a few things."

The informant suddenly felt very self-conscious. He had been talking in his sleep and Shizuo had heard all of it? His past as a nation had been coming back to him through his dreams and he wasn't the only one in the audience. His past, his other life, had to stay private; he didn't want his worst enemy knowing every single detail as well.

"I… guess I dreamed a little…" he muttered, trying to skirt around the subject.

"Sounded like it was vivid…" the blond said casually as he dug out his pants and vest.

"Really?" Izaya asked, unwrapping himself from the cocoon of sheets. "I don't recall most of it."

"I heard someone's name," the bodyguard continued as Izaya moved to get a new change of clothes. "Tell me, who's Eliza?"

Izaya froze at the name, remembering the images of Hungary. "I… can't recall…" he lied and grabbed his clothes, rushing out of the room to find the shower.

The blond stared after the informant but only shook his head. "Stupid flea…"

Meanwhile, Izaya had locked himself in the bathroom, his bundle of clothes pressed close against his chest. These damn dreams were so close to destroying his psyche. He felt like even though he kept getting information about his past with every dream, he still got almost nothing. He couldn't understand what was being thrown at him, especially since he had to completely leave his human life behind him. Everything was just so jumbled up in his head right now; his life as Izaya and his life as Gilbert were mixed up in one giant mess of images and sounds.

"I'm going to have to put up with this until we get to the Netherlands, won't I?" Izaya groaned, rubbing his temples in dismay.

"_Most likely,_" a voice like his said.

Izaya looked over tiredly at the sliding glass shower door to see Gilbert staring back at him. "Great. You're back."

"_I can't really leave… seeing that…_"

"Yeah, I know… We're the same, blah blah blah…" Izaya sighed. "Mind telling me what that dream was about? There's too much shit in my head for me to properly decipher everything…"

"_That was the Austrian Succession,_" Gilbert said simply. "_I'm sure you know enough about history to figure out the rest._"

"So there was Austria and Hungary… and us against the both of them," Izaya muttered, slowly piecing things together. "We lost… and Hungary…?"

"_Stayed with Austria for the longest time. In fact, they're still together._" Gilbert turned his gaze to the ground, eyes glazing over as he returned his focus to the past. "_I brought it upon myself, you know. I lost her for the longest time…_"

"Will we be seeing her again?"

"_Probably,_" the nation said. "_Most of the nations will be at the Hague to meet us._"

"I see…" Izaya murmured, looking at the ground as he thought it over. "Gilbert?"

"_Hm?_"

"How do you think she'll react to seeing us?"

"_I don't know… We haven't seen each other since the end of the Cold War…_"

"Are you… scared?"

"_Are you?_"

Izaya pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close. "I don't know…" his voice was but a whisper. "I don't know anything anymore…"

…

"So you're leaving for Italy?" Egypt asked as everyone started to drag their luggage out of his house.

"Yep, gotta leave as soon as possible," America sighed with a small smile. "Sorry we couldn't stay longer but you know how it is… Have to move fast and all that."

"Understandable," the Arab nation nodded.

"We're going to meet you guys at the Hague," Turkey told the group. "We'll be a couple days behind you though, so be careful."

"We will take the upmost care traveling to Italy," Japan assured them. "Izaya-san will not get in anymore trouble…" he pointedly glanced at the informant.

"Thanks for the love…" Izaya snorted under his breath.

"Well, we should get going," America said, turning towards the government car Egypt had called for them with Izaya and Shizuo in tow. "Thanks for all your help, Gupta!"

"It was my pleasure."

"Kiku, please be safe," Greece said, taking the Japanese man into his arms. "I'm going to miss you."

"Heracles-kun… please… I…" Japan flushed, not quite knowing how to react to Greece's public display of affection. "I will miss you too…"

Greece kissed Japan's forehead gently before letting him leave with the others. Still as red as a beet, Japan climbed into the car and sat himself next to Izaya, who was busy throwing glances at Greece.

"So you and him are an item?"

Japan squeaked in surprise and turned to Izaya, his face turning red once more. "I… he… um… we…" he took a breath to compose himself. "Yes. Yes, we are…"

"Do many nations have relationships like that?" Izaya asked. "Gilbert told me about only one instance…"

"Oh, it happens all the time, dude," America explained. "Sometimes by choice and other times by a government-based agreement. I'm sure Gilbert told you about Roderich and Elizabeta. They were married a long time ago due to the unification of Austria and Hungry. Their government-made marriage ended after World War I but they've been together for the longest time."

"So have nations only had relationships with other nations?" Shizuo asked. "I'd find it hard to believe if they did…"

"There have been a couple instances where nations have tried to have relations with humans," Japan explained. "As you can guess, they're very limited and we prefer to stay within our limits."

"I see…" Izaya murmured, his eyes drifting over to where Shizuo was sitting. Ever since the night before, he couldn't help but be strangely attracted to the blond. But if what Japan and America said was true, then he couldn't latch onto those newfound feelings. _Good,_ he thought. _I won't have to deal with it. Once I get to the Netherlands, I can forget about that brute…_

Shizuo's hazel eyes drifted over to meet Izaya's and the informant quickly tore his eyes away.

"Nice skunk-stripe."

"Excuse me?" Izaya asked, shooting a glare at the bodyguard.

"You have a skunk-stripe now, flea," Shizuo snorted, reaching for a cigarette as he rolled down the car window. "Take a look."

Izaya leaned over to look at himself in the rearview. Sure enough, the silver in his part had spread almost over-night to cover the top of his head.

"How did I not notice that?" Izaya muttered, touching the now-silver hair on his head.

"Because you're thick," Shizuo grunted as his lit his cigarette.

"Says the person who only noticed it now," Izaya spat, glaring at the blond. It was going to be more than easy to forget him after the Hague…

"Hey, save it for the plane ride, you guys," America chuckled. "You'll have a good two and a half hours to bicker like a married couple there."

Izaya and Shizuo fell silent, but not before shooting each other one last glare. Japan sighed; it was going to be a long two and a half hours…


	16. Chapter 15: Italy

**I'm back! I am so sorry for the delay but school overtook me. There was no escape. It's been two years since the last update and I'm glad I found the inspiration to post another chapter. I will be continuing this story, don't worry!**

**Thank you to everyone for being so patient!**

Chapter 15

Italy

Izaya let out a sigh of relief once the plane landed in Rome. They had finally arrived. That two and a half hours in the air felt like a lifetime of hell. Upon reaching at airport in Cairo, the four of them were whisked away from the main terminal and crammed into a small jet that was loaded up to the ears in government security. The small aircraft was bristling with security guards and Izaya had the pleasure of sitting next to Shizuo for the entire ride. He was forced to sit next to the man who he had been so willing to forget once they reached the Netherlands and hope that the damn brute wouldn't try to talk to him.

Luckily for him, Shizuo got the hint and stayed dead-silent throughout the entire thing. For the first thirty minutes, Izaya had been fine with the bodyguard not speaking to him and then the silence became too much. But despite how terribly bored he was getting, he refused to talk to Shizuo. He couldn't afford to bond with the man. After all, he would be gone after Izaya rejoined the nation's in the Netherlands. But there was something about the silence that stung, something that left a dull ache in his heart.

That ache, however, was placed by sheer relief once the all-too-familiar bumps of the landing gear rattled him to the core. If not for the extra security added due to the incident in Cairo, Izaya would have been out of the plane in seconds. Instead, he was glued to Shizuo's side once more and shuffled out of the plane surrounded by guards.

"How much more of this security bullshit do I have to take?" Izaya spat as Japan appeared next to them.

"Not for much longer," Japan whispered to him and the informant let out a sigh of relief. "Once we meet Feliciano-kun and Lovino-kun in the terminal, these men will be on their way back to Cairo. After all, they were only just a loan from Gupta-san…"

"Good. I don't think I could take much more of this," Izaya said, flipping the hood of his jacket so it would rest on top of his head. Due to the widening strip of silver hair, it had become more and more necessary for him to wear something over it. It was a dead-give away to anybody who wanted to find them and they just couldn't take that chance. "So what's with Feliciano and Lovino? You said they're both Italy, right?"

"Yes."

"Why are there two of them?"

"They each represent the two different halves of the country. Feliciano-kun is the northern half while Lovino-kun is the southern," Japan explained. "It's something left over from a long time ago, when Italy was too weak to function on its own." He turned to the informant, a quizzical look on his face. "Izaya-san, how much do you remember about the twins?"

A frown appeared on Izaya's face and his red eyes went out of focus as he tried to summon up memories of the Italy twins. It was like searching for a needle in a hay stack. There were still so many things he had yet to remember and the small flashes Prussia would give him as he slept. But when Japan had told them the names of the people they were going to meet, he couldn't help but latch onto the familiarity. _Feliciano and Lovino…_ The names struck a chord, making him feel like there was something about them that he _should _remember yet he could bring nothing to mind.

"I can't recall a thing," he sighed and the other nation frowned at him.

"Can you recall anything else?"

"I've only seen bits and pieces of different events," Izaya admitted. "I dreamt of Hungary and Austria last night, actually."

Japan shot a surprised look at him. "Oh?"

"It was a very strange dream… actually, it was more like a memory," the informant recounted. "It was the war of the Austrian Succession…" he paused, debating on whether or not he should reveal the extent of his knowledge to Japan. "That's… that's all I really know."

Japan nodded slowly, an understanding smile on his face. "You will quickly learn that relationships among fellow nations are rather complicated. I am fairly certain that memory has reminded you of that. I do not know all the details about what transpired between the three of you but I do know that Elizabeta-san has missed you dearly. She'll be happy to see you again."

Izaya suddenly felt hope rising in his chest, most likely from Gilbert's side of their shared brain. "I… Thank you, Kiku… Gilbert appreciates that…"

The nation smiled knowingly and softly touched Izaya's arm, the gesture reassuring in every way. "I know, Izaya-san, I know."

Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal came out of the crowd. "There they are, Fratello! There they are!"

Before anyone could react, something barreled into Izaya at high-speed, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Once he was able to regain his breath and could actually comprehend what was going on, he heard someone new rambling excitedly in Italian and felt a pair of arms wrapped around his torso. He cast his startled red eyes down to the person clinging to him and was met was a pair of bright hazel eyes and a mess of auburn hair with an abnormal curl sticking out on his left-hand side.

"…It's so nice to see you again!" the young man squealed, the stream of words suddenly becoming coherent.

Izaya blinked at him, not knowing how he should respond. Japan instead took the reins and smiled kindly at the new arrival.

"Feliciano-kun, it is nice to see you again," he greeted.

"Kiku!" Feliciano squealed and grabbed the nation's hands, jumping up and down as he did so. "I can't tell you how great it is to see you! Welcome, welcome, welcome!" He threw his glace over to Izaya. "And you brought Gilbert! Oh, that makes me so happy! I haven't seen him in a long time!"

Izaya shot a confused look at Japan. "So, which one is this again: North or South?"

Italy frowned and looked at Japan, unsure of why Gilbert didn't recognize him.

"I'll explain later," Japan explained to his friend, looking sympathetic. "Where's Lovino-san?"

"I'm here, I'm here…" an irritable Italian accented voice grumbled through the crowd. Lovino appeared soon enough, pushing his way past the many people surrounding him. He looked almost exactly like his brother aside from the curl sticking up from the right side of his head and the complete lack of joy that was emanating from his person. His hazel eyes settled on the group of them, recognition shining through once he saw Izaya. "Well, it's about time you got back, you bastard."

Izaya raised his eyebrows and Shizuo growled, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Excuse me…?"

"_Fratello!_" Feliciano protested, grabbing his brother's arm and shaking it. "Please, behave!"

"Oh, I'm sure he means no harm!" America crowed as he came through the crowd with their luggage, as well as three agents, in tow. "Nice to see you boys again!"

"_Dio_, why on earth are _you_ here?" Romano growled again, looking even more annoyed than before.

"Now, now, you can afford to be a little nicer, couldn't you?" another accented voice said and a young Spanish man walked up next to the Southern representation of Italy, his green eyes shining brightly. "Alfred, Kiku! It's so nice to see you again!"

"Hello, Antonio-san," Japan smiled, bowing in greeting.

"Dude, we didn't know you were going to be here!" America crowed, grinning from ear to ear as he clapped the Spaniard on the shoulder. "This is going to be so awesome!"

Antonio let out a loud laugh and Romano let out a low growl next to him, the Italian's eyes darkening. "That it will, _mi amigo!_"

"This is going to be a disaster…" Romano sighed.

"Antonio-san, allow me to introduce you to Orihara Izaya and his bodyguard Heiwajima Shizuo," Japan said, bringing Izaya into the middle of everything.

Upon seeing the informant, the Spaniard's eyes lit up and his smile grew larger. "_Dios mio,_ I can't believe it! They really found you! Gupta and Sadiq called us a while ago and told us that you don't quite remember everything but don't worry, _mi amigo!_ We'll have you all fixed up in no time, won't we Lovi?"

"Whatever…" the Italian snorted, his lack of enthusiasm conveniently ignored by the Spaniard.

"Uhm… Thanks," Izaya responded slowly, taken by surprise by Antonio's sunny disposition. "I'm sorry, what's your name again? I'm having some trouble recalling things…"

"That's fine!" the Spaniard chuckled loudly and stuck out his hand for the informant to shake. "Antonio Fernandez Carreido, representation of the wonderful and beautiful Spain. It's very nice to meet you again."

Izaya gingerly took the nation's hand and was surprised to feel a warm and gentle grip from the Spaniard rather than the arm-wrenching one he was expecting to get. He had never been addressed in such a caring way before, as if he were a very close and dear friend. It was then that he truly wished he could remember everything from his past as a nation; he wanted to remember the people that cared for him, the people that loved him, people like Antonio. Instead, everything about his past life was shrouded from him, completely unreachable and unattainable… and boy, did he _hate _things that were just outside his reach.

"Well, let's not linger here any longer!" Spain spoke, breaking Izaya out of his thoughts. "We need to get moving if we want to get back home for lunch…" he wrapped a strong, tanned arm around Izaya's shoulders as they began to head for the exit. "Feli and Lovi made a wonderful meal for all of you and, _Dios mio,_ it's amazing! You'll love it! You've always loved their cooking; in fact, you and Francis would just beg for it when you came over to drink. Do you remember that? Best times of our lives, _amigo_! I'm sure you don't recall most of it but there was this one time where Francis…"

Spain continued to ramble on as they made their way out of the terminal, dragging Izaya and the twins with him. As the others filtered past, Shizuo slowed to a stop, staring at the retreating forms of the informant and the nations they had just met. Once again, he had been surprised by the welcome the countries had given them, especially by one as warm as this. He had never seen anyone greet Izaya with such warmth before, not even Shinra. Izaya's reactions were actually what had surprised him the most. His smartass remarks had nearly disappeared from his dialogue and most of the time, he had been giving off a tired air for the past two days. This alarming change in the informant had captured the bodyguard's attention entirely and despite how much he hated Izaya, he couldn't help but feel a bit worried about the entire thing.

"Hey, you alright?"

Shizuo snapped out of his inner-monologue and turned to see America standing next to him, loaded with the assorted baggage. He had a grin stretched out on his face, despite the weight put on him.

"Yeah… I just…" the bodyguard paused, adjusting his sunglasses. "This is different."

The other man stared at him with baby blue eyes, the youth showing on his face as his expression grew quizzical. "What do you mean? Not used to such a greeting?"

"There is that," Shizuo grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets. Now wasn't the time to lament about his hermit-esque past. "I mean concerning the fl- Izaya. I've never seen anyone greet him like this before."

"Why would that be?"

Shizuo fumbled around with his cigarette box, popping one into his mouth but refraining from lighting it. "He's an asshole."

America chuckled, the edges of his eyes crinkling into crow's feet that seemed to indicate his true age. "Is that all? I guess it's nice to see that he hasn't changed much." The bartender shot him an inquisitive look. "Gilbert… Izaya… whatever his name is… he's always been kind of an asshole. Egotistical, for sure. He had his moments though. He had great friends even though they're assholes at times." He flashed a broad grin at Shizuo. "Just assume that all of us have been assholes at some time or another. It kinda comes with the job, ya know? But I haven't been around him recently so I guess you have more- oh shit…"

The American wiggled around uselessly as one of the bags tried sliding out of his arms. Shizuo reached out with a long arm and plucked it off the pile, letting it hang loosely at his side.

"Do you need any help with that?" he asked, removing the cigarette from his lips with his other hand.

"Nah, I'm fine!" the nation responded. "The weight doesn't bother me at all. It's just like carrying a pillow. The balancing? Now that's the hard part… but hey, thanks anyways!"

"You're strong?" Shizuo asked casually as they followed the rest of the group.

"Oh, yeah, plenty strong. Have to be," America chuckled. "Lifted a car once, if that gives you any idea what it's like."

Shizuo's eyebrows rose and he couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of excitement. "I… um… I'm strong… too…" He cursed himself for being so damn awkward.

America, however, didn't seem to notice. In fact, he seemed pretty impressed. "Oh really? Cool! Not every day I run into a human that can bench-press something larger than your average dumbbell. What's the most you've been able to pick up?"

"A truck, vending machines, other things like that."

"Hey, man, that's pretty cool!" America praised, nudging Shizuo playfully. "To be honest, I wasn't sure about you at first but I'm liking you now."

The former bartender, for once, allowed himself to be nudged in such a way. Normally, he would have been set against talking about his strength, especially with someone as eccentric as the nation beside him, and he could have snapped upon being touched like that but strangely, he felt serene talking to this man. Maybe it was because they shared something in common, something that he had never seen in anyone else before, something that he had to live with all of his life that caused him endless shame and emotional turmoil but now…

"Oh, damn, we'd better be careful!" America chuckled, breaking the other man out of his inner monologue once more. "Everybody's going to leave us behind! Hey, Kiku, Antonio! Wait up! The pack mule is moving slower than the rest of you, remember?"

As the nation moved faster towards the rest of the group, Shizuo followed closely behind, twirling his cigarette thoughtfully between his fingers. He may not have had the experience that Shinra did or the cunning that Izaya possessed but he was, at the very least, observant enough to notice the strange change that been occurring with this trip around the world. Izaya was withdrawn and quiet while Shizuo himself hadn't snapped like he would have by now. Not to mention, they hadn't tried to kill each other since he took the flea to Shinra's. It was strange to say the least, that they began to act this way… and it unnerved him to no end.

Once out of the airport, he lit his cigarette and took a very long and well-deserved drag.

…

"Ah! Here we are!" Spain crowed when they finally reached the twin's villa, an arm slung around Izaya's shoulders. "Magnificent, no?"

"Magnificent" didn't even begin to describe the villa that lay in front of them. It was an enormous white building with brick-red tiles on the roof. The villa was surrounded by a lush garden, filled with olive trees and grape vines, the vines winding around the Roman styled columns that made up a patio of some sort as well as the entrance to the home itself. The entire thing was enclosed by a round wall, about five feet tall, with a rustic looking wooden gate smack-dab in the middle. Neither of them had be able to escape the grape vines, which had curled over the top of the wall and traveled downward, a curtain of greens and purples.

Shizuo said nothing as he looked upon the amazing villa but instead let out a low whistle, the sound slightly obscured by another unlit cigarette. For some reason, he had been as compelled to smoke ever since they got off the plan but having it between his teeth was almost therapeutic by this point.

In front of him, sandwiched between Spain and Italy, Izaya was taking the sight in front of him. He had never been in Rome before- in fact, he never was one for traveling very far in the first place. He had only seen sights like this in pictures and now it was sitting right in front of him, grandiose and so very real… and familiar.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Italy gushed, his eyes shining like amber. "It's been in our family for centuries. This villa, it used to belong to Grandpa Rome while he was still alive."

Izaya's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. _Grandpa_ Rome…? There was a lot about this that he was missing but he opted to inquire about that later. "Have I, um, been here before? It feels familiar, like I've seen this before…"

Italy's grin faulted for a split second but it dropped from his eyes entirely. "Oh, um, yes. Yes you have! We used to spend a lot of time together, you, me, and Ludwig. You… you don't remember…?"

Before Izaya could respond, Japan swooped in with expert timing, placing a comforting hand on Italy's shoulder. "Feliciano-kun, I can explain once we get inside…" Italy still kept his eyes fixed on Izaya, the grin completely gone from his face. "Feliciano-kun?"

"_Sì_, _sì_…" the Italian nodded, a sad smile stretching across his face. "We can talk, sorry for that… um…" He glanced towards the rest of the group, lighting up again. "Please, come in! I'm sure all of you are just famished! Lovi, can you take them to the dining room, _per favore_?"

Romano's face, which had held a sour expression during the trip to the villa, soured even more but he walked forward anyways, opening the gate for their guests. He shot a glare in Izaya's direction as he went through the gate, mad dogging him the entire time.

"What's his problem?" Shizuo grunted to America, teeth clenching his cigarette.

"Lovino, well, he's always had the disposition of soured milk on a hot tin roof," the nation explained. "He's also very protective of Feliciano and Gilbert wasn't always the best of influences."

"Hm." Shizuo grunted. Not a very surprising fact.

The villa turned out to be charmingly rustic on the inside but it was also rather big. The ceiling sat far above their heads, pristine and painted in some places. The entryway tile was cool and colored; blues, reds, purples, and green sat at their feet, like they were walking on jewels. To their right a spiral staircase corkscrewed into the ceiling, most likely leading to a multitude of rooms. The walls were white, like the ceiling, but in some places looked more of a cream color, indicating a possible renovation or addition.

"_Dios mio_, I love this entryway," Spain sighed. "Obviously, they've changed things a bit over the years but a lot of this dates back to before the Roman Empire. Oh and those paintings, on the ceiling? Feliciano and Lovi made all of those. Their grandfather painted the mural in the middle. Everything else is theirs. Trust me, the twins are amazing artists!" he turned to Romano, his green eyes twinkling. "Aren't you, _mi amor_?"

Romano glared at him and snorted. "_Vaffanculo._" He pushed away from Spain and stomped to the dining room, gesturing for everyone else to follow him.

"Ah, see?" Spain laughed, placing his hands on his hips. "He does love me, after all!"

"Why do I get the feeling that was actually very rude…?" Shizuo muttered to the American next to him.

"Cause it was," America chuckled. "Fair warning, brush up on your Italian insults. Lovino likes to use them as much as he can, especially with Antonio."

"Ah, Alfred, _mi amigo_!" Spain exclaimed, stopping America in his tracks. "Please, let me get those bags for you! I can take them upstairs to your rooms. Oh, and I can get that one too, if you don't mind." He reached for the bag that Shizuo was still carrying, which the bodyguard handed over without much difficulty.

"Thanks," he grunted.

"I am so sorry, but I don't believe I caught your name, my friend," Spain chuckled. "Or maybe I did. I apologize, this entire situation has gotten everyone so excited."

"Shizuo," the bodyguard said flatly. "Shizuo Heiwajima."

"Ah! So nice to finally greet you properly, my friend!" Spain stuck out a tan hand and the blond reached out hesitantly to shake it. "Please, please, go on ahead to the dining room. I believe you will find the food to die for!" As the bodyguard departed, Spain turned to America, his expression turning grim. "Alfred, we do need to talk about this business later. All this trouble for Gilbert…"

"I know," America sighed. "Kiku will fill you in on everything. I would talk to you now but I should probably keep an eye on our charge, especially after what happened in Cairo."

"Understandable," Spain smiled. "Kiku, Feliciano, we can talk upstairs if that's ok?"

The other two countries nodded and departed from the group, following Spain upstairs as America caught up to everyone else. Spain turned at the last minute to see Izaya follow Romano into the kitchen. As he rounded the corner, the informant flipped his hood off of his head, revealing the streak of silver that dominated the top of his hair. The nation took a deep breath and leant against the stair railing, blinking at the back of his former friend.

"_Dios mio_," he sighed.

"Is it hard to believe?" Japan asked from the top of the stair.

"No, I believe it. I just…" Spain paused, swallowing hard. "I just never thought I would ever see him again."

Japan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Let us talk about this more upstairs. Shall we?"

"_Sì_," Spain sighed and climbed up the stairs, luggage in tow. "So, Kiku, what's the situation?"

"We found him in Japan, under a completely different identity," Japan explained to the two countries.

"And he has no memory of anything?" Italy asked, his eyes downcast and concerned.

"None whatsoever."

"How did that happen?" Spain asked as he placed the baggage in front of different doors. "Did he hit his head or something after he ran off?"

"We don't know," Japan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Until we found him, he was completely convinced that he was Orihara Izaya instead of Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's lived his life as a different person and knew no better concerning his identity. Oh, and Antonio-kun, please put Shizuo-san's luggage with Izaya-san's."

"Okay?" Spain asked, eyebrow cocked. "Any reason why?"

"Shizuo-san is working as a bodyguard for Izaya-san," Japan explained. "They are… well acquainted."

"Ohhhh?" a smirk curled onto the other nation's lips. "I sense a euphemism of some sort, _amigo_…"

Italy perked up at this, cocking his head to the side. "Are Gilbert and…?"

"No!" Japan squeaked, his face turning beet red once he connected the dots. "Of course not! No that's ridiculous! I didn't mean it like that! I meant that they're not friends at all! They actually try to kill each other on a daily basis!"

Spain and Italy exchanged looks and then both looked inquisitively at Japan.

"So _why_ are they stuck together like this?" Spain asked, clearly confused.

"Shizuo-san agreed to guard him," Japan sighed, rubbing his temples. "It was an agreement he had with a friend, I think… I'm not sure. But truthfully, there is no one that would make a better bodyguard."

"Okay, as long as you're sure," Spain shrugged and put the luggage together.

"As long as they don't break anything, I don't mind," Italy smiled. "But, Kiku, do you think he will remember anything? Has he forgotten us for good…?"

"Feliciano-kun…" Japan sighed, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I'm not sure if he will regain all of his memories but he has regained some. Just give him time."

The other country nodded sadly, eyes downcast. "I just want him to be back…"

"We all do, Feli," Spain said, touching Italy's shoulder gently. "We just need to help him through it. Can you do that?"

Italy perked up a bit and nodded. "I'll try."

"Good," Spain smiled. "By the way, what's with the hair?" Upon getting a confused look from Japan, he decided to clarify. "His hair. Gilbert- Izaya, whatever his name is. It looks weird."

"I'm not sure about that either," Japan admitted, looking thoughtful. "I believe it is a progressive thing, like his memories. His hair has slowly been turning silver but I don't know what it means."

"Maybe he's becoming more like Gilbert?" Spain offered.

"Maybe," Japan sighed. "I'm also concerned about one more thing. Sadiq-san mentioned something in Egypt, about what he wants. What if Gilbert never wanted to come back?"

"Kiku, if he didn't want to come back, why would he be here now?" Spain asked. "He came of his own free will so that's a good sign. If he wants to stay, great! If he wants to leave after this is done, that's up to him. We'll get there when we get there. At least we know he's still around."

"That's true," Japan sighed. "I just…"

"I know, you don't want to force anything," Spain said, a small smile gracing his face. "You're not. Don't worry. Just let it play out."

"I agree," Italy nodded. "Even if he doesn't remember everything, I'm satisfied with knowing that he's still around."

"You're right," Japan sighed. "We found him and that's what matters. I… needed that. _Arigatou gozaimasu._"

"No problem," Spain smiled. "Well, we got that taken care of. Let's get downstairs before Lovi charges up the stairs with a kitchen knife. He always gets like that when I'm late to dinner."

As they started towards the stairs, Italy reached for Japan's sleeve, dragging him back an inch.

"Feliciano-kun?"

"I just wanted to say… thank you, Kiku."

Japan gave him a soft smile. "_Douitashimashite_, Feliciano-kun. Let's get to dinner before your brother kills Antonio-san or worse, goes after us."

Italy's face broke into a bright smile as they went down the stairs. His hope for his friend's well being had been restored.


	17. Chapter 16: Drinks with Good Friends

**Another chapter! Feels like I'm on a roll!**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Thanks for being so patient! Hope you enjoy this update!**

Chapter 16

Drinks with Good Friends

Spain hadn't been kidding when he had described dinner as being a feast. Food was laid out all over a long wooden table, making up a myriad of pastas, vegetables, fresh fruits, and assorted Italian desserts. It seemed to stretch on and on, going into infinity. Izaya and Shizuo both stared at the sight before them, completely bewildered at the amount of food. They had spent _how_ long cooking all of this? It must have taken days!

"Oh sweet, man!" America gushed, grabbing a plate from the table. "You made my favorite too! When can we dig in?"

Romano reached over and slapped his hand. "Sit."

The American looked genuinely hurt and sunk into his seat, pouting. "Does that mean we can eat though?" Romano shot him a withering glare. "Okay, geez…"

Izaya suppressed a small chuckle as he slid into a seat. Despite still not knowing a lot about the nations that were hosting him, he was feeling better than he had in a while. For once, he was not sitting in a cramped car or an airplane surrounded by security or with a certain blond bodyguard pasted to his side. Quite content with the situation, he slid his coat off and surveyed the food with his crimson eyes, already trying to decide what dish he should spring for first. As he raked the table with his eyes, Shizuo pulled out the seat next to him and sat down, leaning back with a relaxed expression. This, however, did not escape Izaya's attention and he immediately made a point of ignoring the man next to him.

"Nice to see you're enjoying yourself too," Shizuo grunted, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette. He hadn't dared to light it lest it pissed off the grumpier of the twins.

"I'm sorry, did it look like I wanted to talk to you?" Izaya sniffed coldly.

Shizuo growled to himself but refrained from cursing at the other man. "Still not over the fact that I'm your bodyguard?"

"I'm not thrilled by the idea yet, if that's what you're asking," the informant snorted, still avoiding the bodyguard's gaze.

"Ummm, guys…?" America tried to interject, eyeing Romano nervously. The Italian, during the duration of their conversation, was slowly edging closer to the kitchen knives…

"What is with you lately?" Shizuo demanded, completely ignoring America's attempt at getting through to them. "You're either completely passive or a complete dick. Can you just pick one?"

This time, Izaya turned around to face him head-on. "Look, _Shizu-chan_, but the last time I checked, your job here is to keep me protected, not worrying about my 'wittle feewings.' Besides, being a bodyguard is the only job that you've managed to actually be good at."

The blond gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. "Say that again. I _dare_ you."

Izaya, hand curled around a butter knife, was about to open his mouth to retort when a burst of wind cut him off. It flew past the side of his face, flattening his hair against his head for a second, and stopped right between him and Shizuo. There was a pause as both men's eyes lowered to the space between them, focusing on a rather large butcher's knife. They exchanged glances and then turned to faced Romano, who was standing behind them with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No fighting in my house," he said simply, his amber eyes glinting with malice.

Before anyone could do anything else, Spain burst into the dining room with Italy and Japan trailing behind.

"Aha, here we are!" he exclaimed, his green eyes immediately settling on the knife. "Oh, I see you already got to the knife, Lovi. I'm not too late am I?"

"Just shut up and sit down," Romano growled, walking over and ripping the knife out of the wood. "Eat some fucking pasta before I kill all of you."

Spain only laughed at this and turned to smile at Shizuo and Izaya. "He's quite a cutie, isn't he?"

"That's one word for him…" Shizuo growled, glaring daggers at the slit in the table.

"Now, now, let's eat!" Spain declared, clapping both men on the shoulder. "Don't be shy! You must be famished!"

"Yes!" America cheered and started to load his plate with pasta.

Izaya opted to start on salad first and grabbed what appeared to be a Caesar salad immediately to his left. While reaching for some delicious looking tortellini, he eyed Shizuo's plate to his left and promptly balked at it. The first thing that the brute had chosen, out of all of their choices, was a piece of tiramisu. That damn sweet tooth of his knew no bounds, did it?

"You realize that's unhealthy, right?" he said, his nose turned up as he prodded his salad.

"I don't mind," Shizuo responded, taking a small bite. "I like it."

"What about everything else?"

"I'll get to it later."

"Oh, really, you eat your dessert first? You are just too weird sometimes…"

"Does someone have to sit in between you two or something?" America asked from the end of the table, mouth full of spaghetti. "This is worse than my family game nights, I swear…"

"I wouldn't advise that, Alfred-san," Japan muttered into a glass of water.

"It's not my fault that every single thing that he does annoys me," Izaya folded his arms across his chest, salad forgotten. "You know what? This was a terrible idea, from the get-go. We hate each other, _loathe_ each other, and we're expected to stick together on a happy field trip around Europe? I blame Shinra. I'd be here by myself, not putting up with someone that I've hated for _years_."

"God, I love family dinners…" America sighed again, awkwardly trying to lighten the atmosphere.

It failed, indefinitely.

"No, this wasn't a good idea," Shizuo agreed, seeming to be more focused on the cake than anything else. "But here we are."

Izaya narrowed his eyes into ruby red slits. That was not the reaction he wanted. "Usually that would have gotten you to beat the tar out of me."

"Maybe I'm trying to be a good guest."

"You've never held back before."

"Izaya."

"You've been a guest in Shinra's home multiple times and almost creamed me plenty of times there."

"_Izaya_."

"Not very good manners, if you ask me…"

"_IZAYA_."

"Dammit, Shizu-chan, _what_?" Izaya sighed in exasperation, snapping his head to the other man.

The sight that he received nearly tickled him pink.

Shizuo was hunched over slightly, his left hand clutching the edge of the table. In his right hand rested the fork he was using, now bent and crumpled in his strong grasp. A familiar throb was occurring in a vein along his temple and his frame was trembling. Yes, this was it! This was _normal_. He just needed to push him a little further, get him to snap, and their dynamic would be perfect again.

"I'm trying _really hard_," the bodyguard hissed, shooting a murderous look at the informant.

A smirk spread across Izaya's face. Now _that_ was more like it…

At that point of time, it was probably best that Spain swooped in the way he did. While Izaya was doing his best to rile the bodyguard up, he glanced at everyone else in the room. Japan looked mortified, America was trying to drown it out, Italy looked terrified, and Romano was edging toward the kitchen knives again. Knowing how accurate Romano's aim was, Spain went for the best distraction available. He dove for the twins' cooler and grabbed the first wine bottle he could see.

"Well, enough of that!" he interjected, trying not to show how nervous he was. "How about we bust out the wine, _sì_? It's some of the best in the country!"

"_Please_." Japan held out his glass, hand pressed firmly to his forehead.

Spain gave him a gracious smile and poured him a glass, the liquid shining a deep purple. "This is another thing that Feliciano and Lovino have made. The flavor is fantastic! I have never had a richer wine and I know France personally." He stopped where Shizuo was sitting, making a point to put himself in between him and the informant. "Would you like to try some, _mi amigo_? I assure you, it will not disappoint!"

"I don't drink," the blond grunted, glaring at his tiramisu.

"That's fine, no worries," Spain chuckled, shrugging it off. "It is sometimes an acquired taste. Izaya, how about you?"

"I don't drink either," the informant refused to make eye contact, focusing on his salad. "I guess that's one thing that Shizu-chan and I can actually agree on."

There was the screech of wood against tile and Shizuo was out of his seat, towering above the two men to his right. Izaya smirked up at him, happy to push his buttons while Spain stood calmly between the two, lifting his hands up as if he were trying to calm a wild stallion. The blond gave a sharp glare to Izaya, slid his eyes over to Spain, clutched the back of his chair, and…

Turned on his heel, pushing the chair in as he walked towards the exit.

"I'm not hungry," he grunted as he stormed out, leaving everyone else in a stunned silence.

Izaya only shrugged, slightly disappointed, and turned back to his salad. Stupid Shizu-chan. He had to ruin everything, didn't he?

After a minute or two, America dabbed his lips with his napkin and pushed back his seat, rising slowly. "Hey, Lovino, is it okay if I get a doggy bag for this?"

"Are you shitting me?"

"I knew you'd agree," America flashed him a smile. "I'll be back!" With that, he left the room, following Shizuo's steps.

There was a pause, a beat.

"So… you really don't drink, _mi amigo_?" Spain asked.

"Antonio-san, is that really the most important thing to talk about right now?" Japan sighed, holding his glass of wine very close to his head.

"Well, this is a pastime that Gilbert and I shared often," Spain explained, lowering himself into Shizuo's abandoned seat. "I tell you, we would hit bars with Francis all the time. What a fun time…"

Izaya turned to him, perplexed. "I used to drink…?"

"Doesn't sound like you?" Spain smiled, resting his elbow on the table and his head on his hand.

"No, I… I just don't like it," Izaya shrugged. "Makes people vulgar. I've never been a fan of that."

"Well, I'll tell you what, you're still trying to regain your memories, right?" Izaya nodded at that. "And you want to get them back again, correct?" Another nod. "So then how about we grab a couple of drinks? If we're lucky, it might jog some memories of yours." Spain reached for Izaya's glass as well as the one that Shizuo had left unused, pouring wine into both of them. He handed the glass back to Izaya, who took it slowly with curiosity lining his crimson eyes. "_Salud!_" They clinked their glasses together and Spain took an enormous swig, almost draining the glass entirely. He came back up with a grin, waving his hands to encourage a sip from the informant.

Izaya eyed the purple drink, wrinkling his nose at the sour smell. He glanced back up at Spain, who nodded enthusiastically, and then back to the drink in front of him. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and slowly rose the glass to his lips, taking a tiny sip. Immediately, he started to gag and cough. It was so bitter!

"Oh come on, _amigo_, you gotta be braver than that!" Spain roared with laughter, tossing his head back towards the ceiling. "Gulp it down!"

"No offense," Izaya gagged, placing his glass back on the table. "But I don't think wine is the best thing for that…"

A bright grin broke out onto Spain's face. "You're right!"

"Oh no…" Japan sighed.

"Lovi, can you get the tequila from the cooler and some shot glasses?" Spain asked, not taking his mischievous green eyes off of the informant. "We're going to have a little contest."

…

A floor above them, Shizuo was stalking through the hallway, a cigarette jammed between his lips. He paced up and down the length of the hall, growling to himself.

"Stupid little bastard…" he growled, fists clenched at his sides. "He just can't keep his stupid mouth shut. Almost made me lose it… When this is over, I'm going to kill him at least once…"

"Hey."

The bodyguard whipped around, shooting daggers at America, who had just reached the top of the stairs. Upon seeing who it was, he relaxed a little.

"Hey," he sighed, placing his cigarette in between his fingers.

"You okay?" the nation asked, a concerned smile gracing his lips. "I noticed he was ruffling your feathers quite a bit."

"That's an understatement and you know it."

"True, true," America chuckled and reached into his jacket pocket, fishing for his lighter. "Need a light?"

Shizuo paused. "Is it okay to smoke in here?"

"Trust me, this house has seen worse," America chuckled, offering his lighter. "Besides, most of us used to smoke or still do. The 1920s man…"

"Thanks," Shizuo mumbled, taking the lighter and lighting the cigarette between his fingers. Once lit, he took a long drag and handed the lighter back to America, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Why'd you come up here anyways?"

"Thought I should check on you," America smiled, leaning up against the wall behind him. "That heckling was kind of uncalled for. Is it always like that?"

"You used to know him. You tell me."

"Yeah, it's not very surprising," the nation snickered. "So, I take it you guys have history?"

"A lot of history," Shizuo mumbled around his cigarette. "None of it good."

America arched his eyebrows and put his arms behind his head. "Oh?"

Shizuo let out a sigh. "We first met in high school. My friend Shinra introduced us. I guess they went to middle school together." He paused, taking another drag and exhaling. "I hated him from the moment I saw him. He just sat there smirking at me and taking shots and…" He paused, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "I'm not even sure what set me off, I just hated him from the start. Do you know how that feels? To look at someone and hate them instantly?"

America's smile had faded away, his blue eyes holding a far-off look. "Yeah, actually, I do…" he straightened up. "We never agreed on anything, even though we often had to work together. We mixed like oil and water and once we got to butting heads, it turned into a real shitstorm. So, yeah, I understand completely."

"Do you mind if I ask who it is?"

"Didn't pay attention much in history class, did you?" America chuckled with a tired smile. Shizuo grumbled something to himself, sounding like a 'no.' "It's okay, you'll meet up with him once we get to the Netherlands. Trust me, you'll understand what I'm talking about."

Shizuo shrugged and went back to puffing his cigarette.

"So what do you think triggered that?" America asked.

"He's just an asshole," Shizuo grunted. "He likes to push buttons."

"I noticed," the nation chuckled. "But he seemed passive so far, like, too shocked to actually be an asshole."

"Guess he got bored."

"Yeah, that's possible…"

"So… what's going to happen to him once we reach the Netherlands?" Shizuo asked, moving the cigarette away from his lips once more.

"We'll introduce him to Ludwig, get them reacquainted, throw everyone else into the mix, and go from there," America shrugged. "He can choose whether or not he wants to stay."

"Hm."

There was another long pause as Shizuo puffed on his cigarette, mulling America's words over. Yet there was something else he didn't quite understand…

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you even talking to me?" Shizuo asked and quickly added more. "Not in a rude way but, honestly, most people avoid me."

"I guess I don't find you too hard to approach," America shrugged. "I also tend to gravitate towards people that are more closed off, probably because I just want them to open up. Just trying to be friendly and understanding, ya know? Not to mention, we seem to have a lot in common."

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at him. "You haven't been trying to flirt with me, have you?"

"Oh, no dude, no way!" America guffawed, holding up his hands in his defense. "I will admit, I have a thing for blondes but not for you, dude. I'm just trying to be a friend."

"Hm."

"Besides, I'm taken," America beamed. "Speaking of taken, I'm afraid it looks like you'll be sharing your room again."

"What?" Shizuo glanced over to see his bags sitting outside of one of the rooms along with Izaya's bags. He let out a low growl. _Dammit._

"Sorry, man, Kiku pulls the strings on this one," America sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "And you're kind of on a job here."

"I get it," the bodyguard sighed. "My hands are tied, aren't they?"

"Unfortunately. You're kinda stuck with him."

"I hope he chooses to stay in the Netherlands," Shizuo growled as he opened the door to his room, pushing the bags in with his foot.

"Really?" America asked, moving back towards the stairs. "Despite what you've told me, I kind of doubt that…"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," the nation shrugged, a knowing smile plastered onto his face. "You guys remind me a bit of Antonio and Lovino."

"Okay?" Shizuo asked, more occupied with sorting the luggage out. "I don't see how that matters."

"You don't see it or have you not noticed? Antonio and Lovino are lovers." At this, the cigarette fell out of Shizuo's mouth. "And they fuck like rabbits. All. Night. Long."

By the time Shizuo had turned to face America, the nation had disappeared, no doubt zipping down the stairs by now. The bodyguard turned back around, picking up his cigarette and getting back to work. No matter how much he tried to take his mind off of what the nation had said by getting to work or sending Shinra a check-up email, he couldn't, for the life of him, get rid of the sudden flush that had stained his cheeks.

…

Drinking had turned out not to be so bad. At least, not as bad as Izaya thought it would be. True, it started out a bit distasteful but they managed to work through that. At first, the tequila burned the entire way down, causing his eyes to tear up and triggering a flood of coughs. But with Spain next to him, give him daring glances every other minute, he took shot after shot, throwing them back one by one. Despite everything that he hated about drinking and alcohol, there was something in his mind that just kept him reaching for shot after shot and downing them with expert timing.

After a good handful of shots (or maybe there were more; his mind was getting a bit foggy), he had to pause in between swigs and shake his head, his vision starting to get a little blurry. But the euphoria he felt was unlike anything he had felt before and it left him feeling tingly in places that he didn't know could feel tingly. At shot number fifteen (or was it twenty? It could have even been thirty…), he turned to Spain, who still had a grin plastered on his face. The Spaniard stared at him, shot in hand, and started to laugh, tears filling his green eyes.

"Waasssh sho funny?" Izaya slurred, allowing the liquid in the shot to slosh around.

"Y-your hair!" Spain chuckled. "It'shh sho funny!"

That seemed to legitimately hurt the informant. "I like my hair," he pouted.

Spain responded by waving a hand in Izaya's direction and laughing, spouting a stream of exuberant yet slurred Spanish. Izaya cocked his head to the side and squinted, as if that would somehow translate Spain's stream of Spanish gibberish.

"You're saying… weird words…" he slurred, sipping on a shot yet still eyeing the other man curiously as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.

"Antonio," Romano nearly barked. "_Uscire a parlare in spagnolo_."

Antonio blinked at him, smiled, and then turned back to Izaya. "Sorry, I meant that I meant no harm in… insulting you." He giggled a bit and wrapped a strong arm around Izaya's shoulders, pulling the other man close. "Now, this! Is more like it! A drink with a friend. My best friend." He patted Izaya's head. "Have I told you that you're my best friend…? Cuz you are, 'specially right now."

Izaya shot a goofy smile at Japan, pointing a finger at Spain. "Sheee? We're friendsshhh."

Japan mustered a smile as the two drank on. If there was any further proof needed to prove that Izaya was truly Gilbert, this would be it.

As the night went on, it only devolved from there. Both men had completely forgotten their drinking contest and had opted to just keep pouring shots, laughing and shouting all the while. Spain kept jabbering on about different stories, mostly about their drinking trio, and slipped into Spanish every now and then but by this point, Izaya was barely fazed. Maybe Spain wasn't even speaking Spanish anymore, it could have been incoherent babble for all his knew but the alcohol had stopped his brain from being able to tell the difference between the two.

"Let me tell you about this one time," Spain chuckled, his tan face flushed from the tequila. "France took us out drinking once and I swear, the next morning, we ended up sleeping on the roof of an apartment complex and it wasn't even in Paris! We…" he paused to giggle. "We had traveled all the way to Switzerland!"

For the hundredth time that night, he and Izaya exploded into a fit of guffaws and cackles. Across from them, Romano growled, gritting his teeth while Italy sat next to him, beaming brightly.

"What a couple of fuckwads," Romano spat. "I'm going to have to clean up after them…"

"But, Lovi! They're having fun!" Italy protested, tapping his brother's arm. "It's just like old times."

"I know," Romano went back to gritting his teeth. "That's why it's pissing me off."

Across the table, Spain had picked up on what Italy had said and lifted up his shot, jerking the liquor out of it. "Yes! Like old times! To old times, _mi amigo_! _Salud!_"

"_Salud!_" Izaya cheered and they tapped their glasses together, downing the drinks in a blink.

The informant, now lacking his sense of balance, leaned too far back and slid off his chair, tumbling down to the floor in a cackling heap. Spain, instead of showing worry, broke into a fit of laughter, nearly falling out of his own seat as well.

Romano spat some curses. "Get his stupid ass out of my dining room."

"Alright, buddy," America came into Izaya's line of sight, beaming. "I'm afraid I have to cut you off. Let's get you upstairs."

Izaya gave him a confused look. "Where'd you come from…?

"Dude, I've been here for the past half hour," the blond nation chuckled as he picked the informant up off the floor. "How much have you had to drink anyways?"

"Where'shhh Kiku and Shhhhhizu-chaaan?" the informant whined, glancing around.

"Upstairs. Kiku left when I came back," the nation explained. "And your friend left a while ago, you know, not even five minutes into dinner?"

"Hmmm," Izaya began to pout as America led him out of the room. "Stupid Shizu-chan… He's always ruining everything…"

"Right," America chuckled and lifted the informant so that he was thrown over his shoulder, his head hanging upside down. "Just try and keep the room intact, okay?"

"Mmmkay…"

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, America placed the informant back on the ground and led him to his room.

"Here we are," the nation smiled and knocked on the door. "Open up!"

Shizuo poked his head out, now dressed in his pajamas, looking rather irritable and tired. "What?"

"Put this one to bed," America practically shoved Izaya into the bodyguard's arms. "Goodnight!" Just like that, he was off like a shot.

Izaya smiled up at Shizuo. "Hiiiii Shizu-chaaaaan~"

Shizuo glared down at him but then paused, leaning down to sniff the informant's breath. "Have you been drinking?"

"Jussssst a little bit," the informant slurred, making a tiny space between his fingers.

"Whatever, just get in here," the bodyguard snorted, pushing Izaya towards the other bed in the room. "Go to sleep or something."

The informant pouted. "Shizu-chan is so mean…"

"Tell me something I don't already know."

Izaya cocked his head to the side, his eyes a bit hazy, and stared at Shizuo. "Shizu-chaaaaaaan?"

"What?"

"Has anyone told you that you're very preeeeetty?"

Shizuo whipped around, shooting a glare at the informant. "Stop joking around, flea."

"I'm nooooot," Izaya whined. "You are preeeettyyyy. Your hair ish very, very nice and you have nice muscles…"

The blond stomped over to the informant, glaring down at him. "Stop it. I know what you're doing, so quit while you're ahead."

Izaya actually looked genuinely confused. "What am I doing…?"

"You're trying make me snap, piss me off," Shizuo growled, bringing his face down to Izaya's to keep their eyes level.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're a self-absorbed asshole that doesn't care for anyone else but himself. You're just trying to make my life hell, like you always do."

"'m too tired to do that," Izaya slurred, resting his forehead against Shizuo's.

"Then go to sleep."

"Dun wanna."

"Why not?"

"I like talking to you."

"Bullshit."

"It's truuuue!" the informant insisted, batting at his bodyguard's shoulders. "It's fun."

"That's not how I would define it," he grabbed Izaya's hands. "Stop that."

"Why don't you believe me?" Izaya pouted.

"Because you're a dishonest scumbag," Shizuo sighed. "I don't know what's more annoying; you as you already are or you drunk." Izaya kept pouting at him. "What?"

The informant let out a whine and nearly fell forward, resting his head in the crook of the bodyguard's neck. Shizuo stiffened and glared at Izaya's head, trying to push him away with his shoulder.

"Oi, flea!" he grunted. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me!"

Izaya tilted his head up to pout at Shizuo again, his crimson eyes dull and tired. Shizuo placed his hands on Izaya's shoulders, trying to steer him towards the bed.

"Just get some sleep and don't bug me until the morning, okay?" he growled. "I really can't put up with this all-"

Before Shizuo could finish his sentence, Izaya reached up with both hands and grabbed the blond's head, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. Everything in the bodyguard's brain came to a screeching halt once he felt lips on his and the taste of liquor on the informant's tongue. Before he could even attempt to push Izaya away, the informant pulled back, crimson eyes hazy and cheeks flushed.

Shizuo let a low growl form in his throat. "What-?"

Izaya suddenly pitched forward and promptly vomited all over the bodyguard's legs. Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his fists, trying so desperately to control himself.

"I-za-ya…" he growled but was greeted instead by a soft snore.

That damn flea was asleep.

Shizuo let out a deep sigh and picked up the sleeping informant, carrying him over to the bed. As tempting as it was to leave Izaya sleeping in a puddle of his own vomit, Shizuo knew that he just didn't have the heart to leave him sleeping on the cold floor, even if it felt good to imagine. He tucked the informant under the covers and surveyed the floor.

"Now, I have to clean all of this up…" he sighed.

He spared a glance at Izaya's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, despite having been completely hammered, and a bit, dare he say it, handsome. Shizuo reached up and touched his lips, fingers ghosting over where Izaya had kissed him. Did that mean…?

No. He shook his head. It was just the alcohol talking.

Just that and nothing more.


	18. Chapter 17: Mirror, Mirror

**Popped out another chapter! Thanks for all of your reviews for the past few chapters. I've been so happy to see that people love my story! Please leave a review and I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 17

Mirror, Mirror

Izaya rolled over in bed the next morning, his head pounding. He felt like he had been hit by a truck and backed over by the same truck at least once or twice. He rolled onto his stomach and stuffed his face into his pillow, holding his head the entire time. He didn't even remember getting to bed the night before. In fact, there was a lot missing from after Spain challenged him to that drinking contest…

"So, you're finally up."

The informant lifted his head up from his pillow and squinted his bleary eyes at the person behind the voice. The pounding in his head made it hard for him to make out who it was but the mess of blond hair and bartender get-up gave it away.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya began to massage his temples. "It just had to be you."

"I'm sharing a room with you," Shizuo snorted, striding over to the bedroom window. "I'm your bodyguard now. Get used to it."

Izaya let out a dramatic huff. "Asshole…" Shizuo then ripped open the curtains and the informant recoiled back, covering his eyes. "Fuck! Too bright! Close the damn curtains!"

"You need to get up," the bodyguard snorted. "Besides, you shouldn't have gotten roaring drunk last night if you wanted to have a good morning."

"_Fine_." Izaya pushed himself upright and threw the covers off his body, pausing to clutch his head. "Never doing that again…"

"Maybe if you grow some brain cells," the blond grunted, beginning to pack his things.

Izaya shot a glare in his direction but went back to massaging his temples. "I don't even remember most of what happened last night…"

"That's what happens," the blond responded after a strange pause, his voice cracking near the end of his sentence.

Izaya narrowed his eyes at Shizuo's back. "What happened last night?"

The bodyguard stiffened, almost dropping his bag. "You just… showed up, drunk off your ass, came in, blabbered on about nothing, and passed out. I put you to bed."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you," the informant sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shizuo turned around and locked eyes with the informant, glaring daggers at him. "That's what happened. Were you hoping for more after getting hammered for the first time?"

Izaya snorted and turned away from the blond, still not entirely convinced.

"I'll be downstairs," Shizuo growled, moving for the exit. "Get over yourself and get down there too, princess."

Izaya grabbed the nearest object, turning out to be one of his shoes, and tossed it at the bodyguard. The door closed right at the last second and the shoe bounced off harmlessly, causing Izaya to sit back and pout.

"Stupid Shizu-chan…"

…

"It huuuuuurts!" Spain sniffled from the kitchen table. "Lovi, why does it hurt?"

"Because you downed over thirty shots, dumbass," Romano growled. "Next time, think before you do something like that."

"But Loviiiiii!" Spain whined, pouting at his lover.

Romano glared at him but then let out a large sigh. "I'll make you some coffee."

"He loves me," Spain said, shooting a bright smile at Japan.

"That he does," the Asian nation chuckled softly, sipping at a cup of tea.

"Oh, Lovino, could you make me a cup too?" America asked from Japan's side, his arm draped over the back of his chair. "I like mine black."

Romano muttered a string of curses but prepared the coffee maker anyways, scooping coffee grinds into a filter and stuffing the filter into the maker. The nations were up bright and early this morning, with the exception of Spain, and were now circled around the table, sipping coffee and chatting. Spain had wandered down a little later than usual, nursing a major hangover, and was instantly berated by Romano. Italy merely treated him with sympathy and served him his breakfast. America laughed at him.

"If anyone else in this damn house needs coffee, they're going to have to make it themselves," Romano growled dangerously. "I'm not playing barista today, got it?"

"Lovi, calm down," Italy cooed from his seat. "I can help if you want."

"No! I can do it myself!"

Italy sighed and shook his head. His brother would never change.

"Wonder if anyone else is awake?" America asked, his blue eyes scanning the ceiling as if he could see through it. "Izaya was pretty sloshed last night. Maybe he'll have a hangover worse than Antonio!" He ended the sentence in a loud laugh, causing Spain to cover his head with his arms.

"Not so loud, pleeeaaase!" he cried into the wood. "Huuuurts…"

America lowered his roaring laughter down to a hissing snicker, trying to spare the ears of his friend. "But seriously, are those two up yet or what?"

"Izaya-san is probably sleeping in," Japan reasoned. "Like you said, he was extremely…" he paused, wrinkling his nose at America's strange terminology. "…_sloshed_. Shizuo-san may still be up there."

"Oh." America's face broke out into a sly grin. "Hey, think they got up to anything last night?"

Japan cocked an eyebrow. "I don't understand what you mean…"

"You know~" America waggled his eyebrows.

"No, I don't," Japan insisted, looking hopelessly confused. "Alfred-san, you know I don't understand your slang most of the time…" Next to him, Italy leaned over and shook his head, also terribly confused.

"I have to spell it out, don't I?"

Japan nodded, taking a sip of his tea.

"I think that they," he gestured upwards for effect. "Are going to go at it. Hard."

Japan squinted at him. "That did not help."

"Oh _madre di Dio_," Romano growled, palm pressed against his forehead. "He thinks that they're going to fuck, okay?" He turned back to the coffee pot, removing it from the maker. "_Idiota_…"

Japan spat out his tea, spraying it on America's face. "_Wh-what_? You can't be serious! What makes you think that?"

"Body language," the American grinned.

"Bullshit!" Romano snapped, carrying over two coffee mugs to the table. "You're terrible at reading the atmosphere, much less fucking body language." He slammed a mug down in front of America. "Drink your damn coffee."

"I've gotten better!" America insisted. "Ever since I found that book on the atmosphere, I've become a little more aware about certain social situations _including_ body language."

"_That's not an actual book_!" Japan felt like tearing all of his hair out.

"Oh? Then how did I read it?"

"Never mind, that isn't important right now," Japan sighed. "First off, no. Just _no_. Second off, Orihara Izaya and Heiwajima Shizuo _hate_ each other. It would not happen, even if they were the last two people alive. They would kill each other first."

"Hate sex?"

"NO!" Japan was extremely flustered by now, his face flushed a deep red. "It is _never_ going to happen! And please, for the love of all that is good and sacred, do _not_ bring this up to either of them. I do not wish to witness the consequences."

"Eh. Fine," America shrugged. "But on one condition."

"What, Alfred-san?"

"I bet a thousand bucks that during this trip, those two will have hot, sweaty, kinky hate sex with each other," the American stuck out his hand. "Deal?"

Japan narrowed his eyes. "Just for a thousand?"

A wicked smile spread across the blond's face. "A _million_."

Japan's eyes widened. That would be a lot of yen… He reached out and shook America's hand. "You are, as you say, _on_."

"You're _so_ going to lose," America chuckled, his blue eyes mischievous.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Japan jerked forward in surprise, nearly knocking over his tea. "_Ohayo_, Sh-Shizuo-san…"

Shizuo tilted his head to the side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Japan's voice came out as a squeak as he tried to hide his flushed face.

"Yeah, he was just trying to choke on a biscuit, that's all," America explained with a bright grin. "He'll be fine."

Shizuo just shrugged and took a seat on America's other side, placing his bag at his feed.

"Here's breakfast," America grinned, pushing a basket of biscuits and a jar of jam towards the bodyguard. "Want any coffee?"

"Sure," Shizuo nodded, turning his attention to the biscuits.

"I'll get it for you," the American pushed himself out of his seat, making towards the coffee maker. As he passed behind Shizuo, he smirked at Japan and arched his eyebrows, his blue eyes once again holding a mischievous glint.

Japan returned that gaze with a glare, brown eyes filled with determination. Unfortunately, Shizuo caught the look and tried glancing behind him to see who Japan was glaring at. By this time, America was at the coffee maker so when Shizuo turned back to Japan, the nation made sure to break their gazes, acting like nothing had occurred at all. Unfazed, the bodyguard shrugged it off and went back to spreading jam on his biscuits.

"So is Izaya-san awake yet, Shizuo-san?" Japan asked, making a point to ignore another one of America's sly grins. This wasn't going to be an easy bet…

"Hm?" Shizuo looked up again from his breakfast. "Oh, the flea. He woke up a bit ago. Should be down in a few minutes."

"That's good," America smiled as he gave Shizuo his coffee. "Just so you know, the twins like making it with hot milk. Hope that's not a problem."

"Not at all. Is there any sugar?" Romano pushed some packets in the blond's direction. "Thanks."

"Anyways, we _do_ have some business to take care of," Japan said, his tone becoming serious. "So, I hope Izaya-san is down here sooner than later…"

"What kind of business?" Shizuo asked as he dumped a packet of sugar into his coffee.

"It's more like a new development," America elaborated. "It's concerning that encounter we had in Egypt."

"Oh." The bodyguard's face darkened. "What happened?"

"We will talk about it more when Izaya-san arrives," Japan left it at that and went back to his tea.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at the nation sitting across from him but pursued the topic no longer.

"What are you talking about?" Izaya's tired voice came from the door. He was rubbing his temples, the hangover obviously taking a toll on his functions.

"Hey, it's the man of the hour! How's that hangover suiting you?" America chuckled, applauding Izaya's arrival quite loudly.

Izaya covered his ears with a hiss. "Not so _loud_…" At the other end of the table, Spain let out a noise that sounded like a sob.

"Sorry," America grinned sheepishly. "Go on, take a seat. I'll get you some coffee and we'll fill you in."

The informant eyed the only open chair, which so happened to be next to Shizuo. With a dissatisfied grunt, he took it anyways and grabbed a biscuit, chomping into it without any jam. Shizuo barely paid any attention to him, focusing on dumping as much sugar as he could in his coffee. Japan glanced between the two and shot a smirk at America; he was going _down_. America furrowed his brow and shot Japan an "I'm watching you" look, taking his two fingers and gesturing between their eyes.

"So!" he said cheerily as he brought over Izaya's coffee. "How did you sleep?"

Japan was taken aback. Oh, he was playing _dirty_…

Izaya paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "It sounds like I slept well but I feel like shit. Doesn't help that I can't remember a thing…"

At this, Shizuo seemed to get a little tense, putting too much pressure on the biscuit he was trying to butter. Japan threw a glance between the two and shot a questioning gaze to America. The other nation shrugged; there was no clear meaning to any of that. Had they done something? Had they not? Something had happened between them but the question was what was it?

"Well, what were you talking about before I came down?" the informant asked, taking a sip of his coffee. "Sounded like you mentioned my name."

"Egypt got in contact with us early this morning," Japan started, placing his mug back on the table. "It was concerning the man that tried to kidnap you in Cairo."

"Oh?" Izaya put his mug down, his eyes dark.

"He was released on bail this morning."

"_What_?" the informant exclaimed and had to recoil from his own words, touching his pounding head. "Fuck, okay, bad idea…"

"We made sure that bail would be set so high that we could keep him and whoever he was working for otherwise occupied long enough for us to get far enough ahead," America explained, taking his seat again. "This tells us that whoever this man is working for, they have the funding to get to us, like some sort of big organization."

"No matter who is behind this, it is very important that we stay focused," Japan nodded. "We need to keep moving but we need to adopt another route."

"Oh no," Izaya groaned. "We're leaving today, aren't we?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" America cheered.

"Stop being so loud," Izaya moaned, clutching his head again. "Okay, so, what? Back to the airport again?"

"That's what they'll expect," America said. "So, as a diversion, these three…" he gestured to Spain and the twins. "…are going to fly to Paris. _We_…" he gestured to everyone remaining. "…are taking the train to Paris."

"Great. Trains."

"I knew you'd love the idea," America snickered. "We need to leave in, mm, 'bout an hour, so get yourselves packed up!"

"Fantastic," the informant growled and pushed himself out of his seat. "I'll start packing…"

"Sorry we couldn't stay long as long as you wanted, Feliciano," America smiled as Izaya stalked out of the room. "I know how excited you were to see him again."

"No, no, I understand," Italy assured the American. "Besides, we will have plenty of time to catch up once he and Ludwig meet up again. That's the important thing."

"That is true," Japan nodded and slowly rose from his seat. "I'm going to go get my things. I'll be back down in time for us to go."

"Oh, I need to do that too!" America said, snapping his fingers. "I'll be right back." He just about jumped out of his seat and followed Japan out of the room.

"What about you?"

Shizuo, who had stopped paying attention once Izaya had left like a bonafide drama queen, looked up at Spain. "Hm?" He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed for not noticing that the question had been directed at him.

"Do you have to pack at all?" the nation asked.

"Oh, no…" the bodyguard gestured to his bags. "I, uh, already packed."

"Ah, great planning!" Spain chuckled, waggling a finger at the blond. "You're ahead of the game."

Shizuo knitted his eyebrows together. That was not entirely on the mark but he would take it as a compliment. His brown eyes slid over and noticed that the kinder of the twins was staring at him, the nation's gaze curious yet apprehensive. For a second, the blond wondered if maybe he had something on his face or had done something rude until the Italian spoke up, his small voice trembling.

"I-I would like to ask you a question. More like a favor really?" Italy paused, realizing that Shizuo was still holding the same blank expression as he was before the question was even asked. "Well, you don't have to…! Come to think of, you're already doing it but…"

"Slow. _Down_." Romano growled.

"I have no idea what you're trying to ask," the bodyguard added, sipping on his coffee.

"Sorry," Italy apologized, looking a little crestfallen. "I just want to be sure that you're going to help him- Gilbert or Izaya, whichever he's going by now. We can't lose him again, not after all that we've been through. So, please," he turned pleading amber eyes up towards the blond. "Make sure he's safe. I know we haven't even known each other for more than a day but I feel like I can trust you."

Shizuo blinked in response; it wasn't an everyday occurrence that people told him that they trusted him. Then again, it wasn't an everyday occurrence that he was able to sit in a room with Izaya for less than five minutes and not try to kill him. "I work as a bodyguard back home. Even though I hate the bastard, don't worry, he's in safe hands."

Italy gave him a gracious smile. "_Grazie_."

…

"This is so _stupid_."

Izaya was back in the room that he was sharing with his bodyguard, stuffing all of his things back into their respective bags. This change of plans had effectively soured his mood for the day though a number of other things had contributed as well.

"Stupid Shizu-chan, stupid hangover, stupid wack-job in Egypt," he grumbled, tossing his packed bag onto the bed. "This entire trip is _stupid_."

"_Ah, still bitter about the hangover, I bet_…"

The informant turned his head towards the standing mirror in the corner of the room and frowned, immediately spotting the albino in the glass. "Gilbert. I was wondering when you would show up."

"_Only when you need help getting your bearings_."

"Shut up."

"_But really, that was a great competition last night_," Gilbert went on, nodding his head enthusiastically. "_Wait until we get together with France! Now that's going to be fun!_"

Izaya only grunted in response.

"_Aw, have I lost you?_" the nation sniffed, putting on a fake pout.  
>"<em>Sorry, but this is our life. Drinking with friends is better than drinking alone, you know, like they say.<em>"

"Whatever," Izaya sighed, and flopped over onto the bed. "Speaking of, do you happen to remember anything from…?"

"_From last night? No. You lose your memory, I do too. Come on, it's not that hard. We're…_"

"The same. I know, I know," Izaya sighed. "How many times do you have to hammer that in?"

"_Until it sticks_."

"That's reassuring."

"_You're second guessing everything._"

Izaya shot a glare at the nation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"_Ah, so in denial too_," Gilbert smirked. "_We both know that you're having second thoughts about this. Why the cold feet?_  
>"Shouldn't you know?" Izaya spat. "We're the <em>same<em>, after all."

"_Bitter_," Gilbert chuckled. "_Well, it looks like you're not going to admit it, so I might as well spell it out for you._" Izaya only snorted in response. "_That outburst was because you're afraid of things changing._"

"What makes you think that?"

"_People suddenly are kind to you, they care about you, and Shizuo isn't trying to kill you,_" Gilbert listed, counting on his fingers. "_You don't like things that are out of your control. Now that you've gotten over the initial shock, you're starting to fight back. It's not going to work._"

Izaya narrowed his eyes at the mirror but said nothing.

"_Okay, so we're spot on about that_," Gilbert smiled and then let out a hissing chuckle. "_I never thought I'd be the rational part of someone's mind. This is a first_."

"You know, you can always quit while you're ahead."

"_Aw, now you're defensive~. That's cute~,_" Gilbert laughed again, the sound coming out in a hiss. "_But seriously, while we're at it, what's the deal with that Shizuo guy?_"

Izaya eyed the mirror suspiciously. "You should know. We hate each other. That's all there is."

Gilbert rose an eyebrow. "_You and I both know that's not true._"

Izaya glared at him. "Choose your next words carefully."

"_Your relationship has changed over the past few days,_" the nation explained. "_The two of you haven't been going for each other's throats as much as you used to. If anything, it feels like he's taken to you, to us._"

"You have no idea how wrong you are," the informant turned his head away from the mirror. His cheeks were becoming hot and he wasn't willing to reveal that to Gilbert anytime soon.

"_Like I said earlier,_" a Cheshire-cat-like grin spread across the albino's face. "_In denial_."

Something inside the informant broke and he grabbed the pillow behind him, heaving it at the mirror. "SHUT UP! You don't know _anything_ about me!"

"I know that you're one crazy son of a bitch," a different voice entirely filled the room.

Izaya whipped his head up to see Shizuo standing in the doorway, watching him behind indigo lenses. The informant's gaze turned hard and he turned away, glowering at the floor.

"Having a fight with the mirror?" the bodyguard prompted again when he didn't get a response. "Lemme guess, it insulted your appearance, didn't it?"

"Go away."

"Gladly but only once you're at the Hague."

Izaya glared up at him. "So, you're just going to take off. Just like that?"

"That's the plan," the blond shrugged.

"Hm…" It almost made him excited to think of Shizuo leaving his life completely but then it made him feel empty, as if the bodyguard filled some sort of void in his life.

"Ready to go?"

"In a bit…"

Shizuo let loose a sigh and took a seat next to the informant. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Shizuo snorted. "Izaya, I just walked in on you talking, _screaming_ at yourself. There's something wrong."

"Why should I open up to you?"

"Because I'm here to listen," This made the informant look up at the blond in surprise. He… _what?_ "Not to mention, there are a lot of people out there that are concerned for your well-being so stop being a selfish little brat and think about that for a second, okay?"

Izaya let out a large sigh. "I'm not used to spilling my guts."

"Neither am I," the blond shrugged. "Sometimes I have to. Don't you ever have to?"

"Not sure," Izaya muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "This entire experience it's so… different. It's foreign. I'm not used to this at all."

"You'll adapt. You always do," Shizuo nudged the informant with his shoulder. "Looks like you spilled your guts anyways. Better?"

"A little," Izaya narrowed his eyes at the blond. "This is a bit out of character for you though."

"We've never really talked like this before and who knows," Shizuo got to his feet, heading towards the door. "Maybe you're starting to grow on me. I'll be downstairs. Be ready to leave."

Izaya felt himself flush at those words and turned away, looking at the floor. "S-sure…" He looked between his bags and then back to the mirror. He could almost hear Gilbert snickering in his head, "_I told you so!_"

"Oh, Shizu-chan, you're always ruining everything…"


	19. Chapter 18: Memento Mori

**Hello, all! Sorry this one took so long to pump out but I had a lot planned for this chapter so, fair warning, it's a bit long. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reviewing! Please leave a review! :)**

Chapter 18

Memento Mori

"Oh _god_, I hate trains…"

Shizuo turned to the informant, his gaze questioning. "Do I even want to know?"

Izaya glared up at him, wondering if he should shoot back a biting comment. He couldn't help but think about how they got to this point, how this entire end-game had been changed.

They were now sitting on the train platform, America and Japan on either side of them, baggage in tow. Izaya had his jacket wrapped around his body, the hood covering his head in order to hide the widening strip of silver. The color had expanded a little since the night before, now trying to reach for the back of his head. Maybe it just wanted to complete that stupid skunk stripe of his and make him look even more ridiculous. Next to him, Shizuo had a cigarette between his lips, unlit. It had been like that for an hour; the blond seemed to lack the desire to smoke but seemed satisfied just to have the familiar feeling of rolled paper on his lips.

America sat next to the bodyguard, appearing to just be staring into space. In actuality, his cobalt blue eyes were scanning the crowd around them, looking for any possible threats. Whoever those people were, in Egypt, they were persistent, resourceful, and most definitely a threat. There was no telling if they were already two steps ahead of them. Maybe they were already in Rome, waiting for the opportune moment to creep up and grab what they had come for. The thought of it terrified him. He hadn't come on this job just because Germany had business to take care of, oh no. He had known Gilbert before the whole business with the Wall started up and while their relationship wasn't as strong as that with Spain or France, they were still very close, as was Japan.

The blond nation slid his eyes over to Japan, who was on the other side of the informant. He didn't show it but this entire trip had impacted him as well; after all, one of his closest friends, who had been missing for decades, no longer remembered him. But, as Japan did, he kept his feelings about it under wraps. Germany was more important than how he felt at that moment in time and that was how he was going to continue to handle the situation.

Unaware of the feelings and inner dialogues of the others, Shizuo and Izaya went on again about something trivial while the nations half-listened, focused on other dilemmas. That didn't stop America from noticing that the bodyguard's arm was resting on top of the bench they were sitting on, directly behind Izaya's shoulders.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," the blond grunted.

"I don't like trains," Izaya huffed. "Isn't that simple enough?"

Shizuo pulled his lips into a scowl, as if to say, "There's more to that, isn't there?"

"Alright, fine! They make me motion sick and it's _awful_."

"Just trains?"

"_Yes_. Just _trains_," Izaya folded his arms across his chest. "I know, it's weird. I think it's all the bumping and stuff… I don't know!" He began to rub his temples. "God, I fucking hate trains…"

"Sorry, but we had to do it this way," America said from Shizuo's side.

Izaya pursed his lips. "You're not sympathetic at all."

America shrugged sheepishly. "Part of the job, man."

The informant let out a huffy breath and leaned back on the bench, completely ignoring the fact that Shizuo's arm was resting behind his shoulders. America held back a smirk at this; that bet was in the bag. The sound of grinding gears and all four of them looked up just in time to see their train pull up to the platform.

"There it is!" America chirped, keeping his cheery façade.

"Joy." There was nothing but ice in the informant's voice.

"Come on, come on!" America chattered, just about bouncing to his feet. "Kiku and I will grab the bags. You two can go ahead of us and grab some seats."

Japan narrowed his eyes at his partner. He wouldn't _dare_… "Are you sure that's a good idea, Alfred-san?"

"Yeah, they'll be fine," America turned to the pair. "Right?"

"I have a bodyguard that could probably bench press the entire train if he wanted," Izaya stated, obviously still sour about the train situation. "I think I'm good."

Shizuo merely nodded in agreement.

"Great!" America beamed, gathering up all of the bags. "We'll meet up with you then."

Izaya and Shizuo rose from their seats, the bodyguard's arm shying away from the informant's shoulders. They went to board the train, Shizuo staying close to Izaya's side. After the incidents in Ikebukuro and Cairo, even Shizuo was on guard, looking over his shoulder every now and then. He always could have thought of a number of people that would want the flea dead but these people were different. They were faceless and everywhere, coiled under their very noses like a snake. He wasn't even sure what they wanted, aside from getting their hands on the informant. They didn't want him dead- they could have shot him in Cairo and that would have been the end of it. It was strange to even think about but it at least kept the bodyguard on edge, which was what he needed in order to protect his charge.

As they boarded the train, America watched their backs, his interests successfully piqued.

"Alfred-san, that's not very fair," Japan crossed his arms over his chest.

"Aw, you gonna pout?" America laughed. "Putting them together in one place is fair game, dude." He handed some of the baggage to Japan. "I can guarantee you one thing, Kiku. You're going to _lose_."

The urge to throw something at the American became very, very strong…

…

Inside the train, Izaya and Shizuo had finally found an empty compartment and settled in next to each other, making sure to slide the door closed.

"Ah, now the fun begins…" Izaya grumbled, glancing all around the compartment.

"Calm down," Shizuo grunted, now chewing on the end of his cigarette. "The train isn't going to eat you up."

The informant glared at him. "I _know that_."

"You're not acting like it."

Another glare. "Shizu-chan…"

_Tap, tap, tap…_

The two of them looked up to see a man standing at the door of their compartment, wearing a long grey trench coat. Upon making eye contact, the man began spouting Italian, jabbering away to the two men. Izaya and Shizuo exchanged confused glances, neither of them knowing a lick of Italian, and turned back to the man, who began to gesture to the open seats.

Understanding what that meant, Izaya jabbed a finger at the seats and made a slicing motion with his hand; 'no.' "Taken, they're taken." Hopefully, this guy knew English…

The man seemed to get the message because he nodded his head vigorously, waved a hand in thanks, and left.

Izaya let out a sigh, leaning back in his seat. "That is something I need to change."

"What do you mean?"

"Being limited, language-wise," the informant took a glance out the window, watching people pass by on the platform. "Haven't you noticed that all these nations we've met can speak any language you throw at them? I can't do that and that's something I need to fix."

"Maybe it's one of your many memories?"

"I hope."

Silence settled over the compartment. Izaya had his hands pressed between his knees, trying to keep himself from fidgeting as he continued to stare out the window. People were bustling to and fro, reminding him of ants scurrying between the over world and their underground world. Watching them go on about their very human lives distracted him from the current situation, which was filled with confusion and barely any true entertainment.

Next to him, Shizuo had taken the cigarette from his lips and chanced a look at the informant, his eyes examining Izaya's frame. He had never noticed just how small the informant was, especially in comparison to himself. Now, that could have been because he spent more time focusing on killing the louse as opposed to looking at his body but that was more of a minor detail. As his eyes focused on Izaya's face, he realized that the informant was actually rather handsome. There was something about his slight, pointed features that made him look charming, almost as if he wasn't one of the most dangerous men in Ikebukuro.

And that was the exact moment where Shizuo caught himself. He had used "Izaya" and "handsome" in the same thought; that was _not right_. His eyes flitted away from Izaya and he felt his face heat up. Was this because of what had happened the night before? He was trying so hard to banish the entire event from his mind, erasing the memory of soft lips against his, nimble fingers tangled in his hair, the taste of Izaya's tongue…

It was so tempting to send his head through the glass of the compartment door. Maybe that would stop him from thinking about it. The only thing he could do was assure himself that the flea had obviously meant nothing by it. After all, he had been drunk. It meant nothing.

"Hmmmm, do you not like trains either, Shizu-chan?" Izaya purred next to him. "Your face is all red. What's the problem? Have a fever~?" He stretched the high vowel out on that last word, adding even more to his playful tone.

Shizuo only glared at him, trying to force the heat in his cheeks to dissipate through sheer will. Surprisingly enough, the informant actually backed off a little, a look of surprise on his face. The blond snapped his head around to look out the compartment door window, breaking their gazes. Where on earth were the other two? They had to be close by now…

Izaya pursed his lips and gathered his legs up under him, sitting on his knees as he stared at the bodyguard. He could almost hear Gilbert laughing at him in the back of his mind, as if this were proving him right somehow. Why did Shizu-chan never react the way he wanted him to?

"So, this is probably a bad time to ask about what happened last night, isn't it?" he tried.

Shizuo remained silent.

"Is it really that bad? Come on, what did I do? Did I start stripping or something?"

Silence.

"Did I start singing? I know that happens sometimes…"

The silence continued.

"Oh come on, don't make me ask this next one. It's the most embarrassing." Izaya pouted as he gained no response. "Fine. Did we sleep together?"

Shizuo's voice was so deep and thunderous that it nearly shook the entire train car. "NO."

Izaya frowned. That gave him less than he thought it would. "Fine," he sighed, flopping back into a sitting position. "I'll stop asking about it."

The only thanks he got (if it could be considered that) was a rough grunt. He went back to staring out the window, preferring to focus on the ants outside as opposed to the beast sitting next to him.

…

"Alfred-san, are you sure that was a good idea?" Japan asked as America took them through a very slow tour of the dining car. "They've been alone for a good ten minutes now."

"They'll be fine!" America insisted, eyeing some of the food. "Think we should grab some of this?"

"Now isn't the time to be thinking of food!" Japan squeaked, now looking very flustered. "They could be ripping up the entire car by now!"

"But they're not."

"What makes you so sure?"

"We wouldn't be so close to leaving if they were tearing apart the train," America pointed out and continued to stare at some pasta. "Yeah, I'll think I'll come back for some of this…"

"Can we go look for their compartment already?" Japan insisted, glowering at his companion. "Your plan is only going to do more harm than good! They're going to be at each other's throats!"

"Fiiiiine," the other nation sighed, rolling his eyes and continuing through the train. "But only because I want to sit down. I know you're terrified of losing this bet, Kiku."

"No, I am not!" Yes, he was. "I just want to find our seats and relax." He didn't want those two to be left alone for very long, just in case America's theory was actually plausible.

"Okay," America smirked. "If that's what you want…" As he walked towards the exit, he bumped shoulders with a man in a grey trench coat. "Oh, sorry, dude!"

"It's no problem, my mistake," the man replied in perfect English and kept going on his way, taking a seat with a few other people.

America shrugged and kept walking, Japan trailing behind him as they walked through all the passenger cars. "Okay, they should be here somewhere… It's not like they blend in extremely well."

"Alfred-san, can I ask you why you think these two will engage in sexual activities?" Japan sighed from behind him.

"I told you before. Body language."

"Care to expand on that?"

"You really haven't noticed?" America lifted a blond eyebrow in surprise. "Dude, the unresolved sexual tension is _unbelievable_. It's even worse than how Arthur and I used to be. They're going to bang and it's going to be _amazing_, trust me."

"I really hope you're wrong…" Japan sighed. For some reason, Shizuo and Izaya joining forces sounded more terrifying than amazing; a romantic relationship could be a disaster. Izaya couldn't help but tease and push and Shizuo had a short fuse. Not to mention, the nation/human status. It would be too problematic.

"Ah, there they are!" America raced forward to a nearby compartment and threw the door open. "Sorry we're late! Big train, after all."

Izaya looked completely unconvinced but he said nothing as America started to load their bags into the overhead compartments. Japan looked between the two men sitting in front of them. They were turned away from each other, each purposefully avoiding the other's gaze. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Shizuo looked a little flustered. He handed the last bag to America and took a seat across from Izaya, just in time for the train to jerk into motion. Izaya grabbed at the arms of his seat, eliciting a loud laugh from America.

"We're just starting to head out," he chuckled, sitting across from Shizuo. "Calm down."

Izaya only shot him a glare and let out a hissing sigh. "I _hate_ trains…" He pulled his hood over his head and huddled in his seat, pulling his legs up under him.

"Aw, someone's grumpy~"

"Shut up," Izaya growled. "I'm tired."

"Alfred-san, let him sleep," Japan advised, tugging at America's sleeve.

"Alright, alright. He had a rough night after all." America smiled. "Besides, we have plenty of time. We have about eleven hours before we reach Paris, so rest up!"

A groan of frustration came from Izaya's corner as the informant tried to turn his body away from everyone else in the compartment, hoping for sleep to take him.

…

_His feet pounded against the wet pavement, splashing water onto his pant legs as he ran. Ruby eyes flashed under a grey hood, trying to find a place to hide, to lie low. The sound of multiple pairs of boots thundered behind him and he made a split-second decision, ducking into an alleyway as his pursuers raced past him. _

_ "Thank god…" he gasped, bending over with his hands on his knees. "I never thought I'd lose them…"_

_ Still working on catching his breath, he slid down into a sitting position, his back against the alley wall. Why were they still following him? He thought that going to Japan would get them off of his back but somehow, they had managed to follow him. He put a pale hand to his wet forehead; he had messed up. His little trip around the world, meant only to clear his head, turned into being chased by this strange organization. He could have called Ludwig or Kiku or even Alfred but he was pretty sure that these weirdos were monitoring every step his took and couldn't risk putting any of his friends in danger, much less his own brother. It was very simple at this point:_

_ He was cornered. _

_ A tiny chirping noise tore him from his thoughts. His red eyes slid over to the side of his hood, where a small lump was moving around. A small yellow bird peeked out, chirping softly at him._

_ "Oh, sorry buddy," he removed the bird from his hood, cupping it in his hands. "I almost forgot you were there." The bird chirped at him again, this time sounding sad. "I know, this has been a mess… Sorry I dragged you into this. I really thought this was going to be a new beginning for us. I managed to screw it up, of course…" He looked down at the bird in his palms; it's little black beady eyes holding a fair amount of sadness in them. "Don't look at me like that." He let a sigh come from his lips. "I've made a mistake."_

_ He slowly got to his feet, shaking a bit under the rain that assaulted his body. He walked over to a dumpster and squatted next to it, placing the bird on the dry ground beneath the dumpster. The bird chirped pitifully at him, confused to why it was being left in the alley._

_ "I'm sorry, buddy," he sighed, his eyes echoing the same sadness that the little bird felt. "I can't let you stay in this mess. It's my fault; you shouldn't have to suffer. Just… fly to Ludwig, okay? Get somewhere safe. I'll see you soon. Promise." He pet the bird affectionately with a finger. "Goodbye."_

_ Leaving the bird where he placed it, he turned and ran out of the alley, going the opposite way that he had come. He hoped that those goons were miles behind him, but the sight of a stark white lab coat up ahead proved him wrong soon enough…_

…

There was so much that America could use to rub in Japan's face. His early advancements in technology could easily get under Japan's skin but he had one more thing that made it all the more enjoyable: the bet that he was just about guaranteed to win.

Izaya had fallen asleep first, almost immediately after the train had started to move. At first, he was pressed against his side of the wall, curled up in a tight ball. As the ride went on, he slowly slumped towards the other side, leaning closer to his bodyguard. It only took a few hours to lull the bodyguard to sleep and he somehow managed to remain stoic as he did so, his arms crossed over his chest and his head lolled forward. America had kept himself occupied by playing Angry Birds the entire ride but looked up to observe the two men and gained an endless amount of satisfaction. They had managed to scoot closer together so that Izaya's head was resting on Shizuo's shoulder, the blond's head resting on the informant's.

Japan was going down.

He snapped a quick picture with his phone and then went back to playing Angry Birds as if nothing had happened. A few minutes later, the train car shook a bit and it was enough to jostle the informant out of his slumber. He blinked his ruby eyes a couple of times, clearing the sleep from them, and glanced around, almost as if he couldn't be sure of his surroundings. Upon realizing that there was now a weight on top of his head, his eyes traveled upwards to see Shizuo's head on top of his own. He froze and he could have sworn that he heard America snickered. The informant quickly pulled away but this caused Shizuo to slump over even further, his weight almost entirely on Izaya. With a panicked squeak, Izaya tried to prop the bodyguard back up, pushing him to the other end of the seat. The blond then awoke with a startled snort and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, removing his sunglasses to glance around.

"What… just happened…?" he murmured, adjusting his sunglasses.

"You tried to squish me," Izaya sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shizuo opened his mouth to retort but he just as quickly closed it. "I'm too tired to argue with you now…"

Izaya rolled his eyes and went to peer out the window again, noticing the sudden change in environment. "How long were we asleep?"

"You were asleep for a good six hours," America pointed at Izaya and then shifted to Shizuo. "He was asleep for about three. That night of drinking just tore you to pieces, didn't it?"

Izaya glared at him. "I don't want to talk about it."

America only smiled and went back to his game. Izaya's eyes wandered over to Kiku, who had also fallen asleep and was now slumped peacefully against the wall. With a long sigh, he propped his head up with his elbow and glared out the window. They had another five to six hours to blow but there wasn't much to do in the meantime.

"Is there anything to do around here other than sit here with nothing to do?" he asked.

"Uhm, not really," America shrugged, still engrossed in his game. "Unless you want to wander around or get some food. Otherwise, it's a 'bring your own entertainment' kind of deal." He paused and scowled at his phone. "I was so close to winning that time…"

Izaya pursed his lips. Food didn't sound like a bad option; after all, he hadn't had much to eat that morning… "Where's the dining car?"

"Just a few cars up," the American answered, looking at Izaya from the tops of his glasses. "You're not going by yourself, just so you know."

"I expected as much…" the informant snorted.

"Take Shizuo with you."

Izaya glared at the nation one more time, who smirked in return. He rolled his eyes and got to his feet regardless. "_Fine_. Come on, protozoan, let's find the dining car."

The bodyguard grumbled something under his breath but got up and followed Izaya out anyways, making sure to slam the compartment door behind them. America barely flinched and only smiled as he continued to mess with his phone.

"Someone's going to owe me a million bucks…"

…

The walk to the dining car was just as awkward as expected. The two men were completely silent for the entire walk, Shizuo trailing behind Izaya with his hands shoved in his pockets and an unlit cigarette once again clenched between his teeth. Izaya led the way, hood still up and his mouth clamped shut. He really did not want to talk to Shizuo right now, especially after all of those strange encounters between the two of them. Even the tension between them at the moment was different, built less off of hate, and it was extremely unsettling. Their relationship had always been in Izaya's palm, easy to control. They hated each other and he had enjoyed making a game out of that, out of the blond's unpredictability. Now, everything was unpredictable. Not even Izaya knew what he himself was going to do next and he _hated_ it.

The relief he felt when they finally reached the dining car was akin to finding water in the desert. The first opportunity he got, he put as much distance between him and Shizuo as humanly possible. He darted to the salad bar and began to load his plate with whatever he could grab with the pair of silver salad tongs left at the bar. Shizuo let out a growl of frustration and tried to catch up with him but a man slid between them, trying to catch the bodyguard's attention.

"Excuse me, sir…" the man started in English but Shizuo quickly drowned him out, focusing mainly on Izaya.

"Izaya!" he shouted but the informant blatantly ignored him, instead focusing on what kind of dressing he should use.

"Shut up, Shizu-chan," Izaya muttered under his breath and then was nudged from behind. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," the man in the trench coat from earlier apologized, sidling up next to him. "I didn't mean to run into you like that."

"Not a problem," the informant shrugged and began to move towards a table.

The man in the trench coat grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from moving any further. "How about we have a talk together? I would not mind the company."

A few feet away, Shizuo pushed himself past the man in front of him. "Sorry but I have to deal with this…"

He hadn't even moved two steps when the same man grabbed the back of his vest, pulling him back a step. He whipped his head back around to glare at the offender.

"WHAT?"

"You… dropped your wallet," the man offered him a piece of leather that looked nothing like the blond's wallet.

Alarm bells started to go off in his head.

_Dammit_.

"I actually have somewhere I need to be getting to," Izaya tried to excuse himself politely, though something about this guy was freaking him out. "So, no thanks."

"That wasn't a request," the man dug his fingers into the informant's shoulder.

"I hope they sent more than just you," Izaya stated coolly, carefully scanning the room for potential enemies. "The last guy didn't have much luck."

Before the man could say anything, Izaya took his plate in both hands, whipped around, and smashed it over his assailant's head, causing him to fall to the ground. At the same time, three different people sprung up, brandishing different weapons. The man in front of Shizuo pulled a knife. In response, Shizuo uprooted a table, let out a great roar, and swung the entire thing at the man, tablecloth and all. Of the other three, two raced over to try and surround the blond and the third stood in front of Izaya, staring the informant down. People rushed around them, racing for the exits and screaming.

"I would stand down if I were you, Mr. Orihara," the man in front of him said. "We have no intention of hurting you."

Izaya narrowed his eyes at him. "Somehow, I don't believe you. Hmmm, maybe it's because of that little incident in Cairo."

"Don't make us use force," the man sighed. "We're trying to minimize collateral damage as much as possible. Come peacefully."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to make me," Izaya purred, reaching into his pocket. The last time this happened, they managed to catch him unarmed but today, he had his knife…

"I was afraid you would say that…" the man then bull-charged Izaya, knife in hand.

Izaya slid out of the way, brandishing his knife and taking a slice out of his opponent's arm with a flick of his wrist. He then followed it up with a solid kick to the back of the man's knee, sending him sprawling to the ground. He heard a familiar roar of anger and turned just in time to see another man flying at him, undoubtedly thrown by Shizuo. He ducked as the man flew into the wall behind him and surveyed Shizuo's work. The man that he had bowled over with the table was still laid out flat on the floor, most likely in shock or unconscious. Of course, the man behind him was definitely out for the count, slumped over. One man remained, trying to hold his ground against the enraged bodyguard, trembling as he tried to aim his gun at the blond. These men obviously had no idea just who they were dealing with. Shizuo slowly turned to the man with the gun, which caused his opponent to let out an alarmed squeak and drop his weapon. With a low growl, the blond advanced on the man, still dragging the table behind him.

"Oh for God's sakes, shoot him!" the man closest to Izaya shouted and tried to grab for the informant's jacket.

Izaya once again slipped away, this time twisting inwards so that he was between the other man's arms. He drove the heel of his palm up into his assailant's chin, knocking the man's head back. He then drove his fist into his solar plexus, taking the man to the floor. Shizuo took the last man out with the table, sending him sailing to the other end of the dining car. Seeing opportunity, Izaya jumped to his feet and raced over to his bodyguard, knife still in hand.

"This is why you need to stay close to me," the blond growled once the informant reached him. "You wander off and shit like this happens!"

"That's not important right now," Izaya snapped, glaring up at the blond. "These goons somehow found us. They know where we are. We need to get back to the compartment _now_."

Shizuo grunted and looked over the wreckage made in the dining car. For once, that flea was right; this was very serious. "Let's you get back there before any of these assholes come to."

The bodyguard started to head towards the exit, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Izaya went to follow but stopped when he noticed a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. The man in the trench coat, done reeling over the hit the informant gave him, propped himself up onto his elbows and reached into his coat, drawing a pistol and aiming it at the bodyguard's retreating back.

He didn't even know why he did what he did; it just happened. One moment, Izaya was standing idly to the side and the next, his feet were firmly planted in between the bodyguard and the man on the ground. He had barely even registered the sharp crack of the pistol going off when pain blossomed in his abdomen, causing him to double over.

Shizuo heard the sound and turned to see the informant clutching at his stomach and his knees shaking. His chestnut eyes then slid over to the man on the floor and he felt his blood start to boil. With a roar, the bodyguard raced past Izaya and grabbed the salad bar, overturning it onto the man in the trench coat.

"Bastard…" he said in between labored breaths and turned back to face Izaya. "Flea, are you…?"

It was then that he noticed the blood pooling at Izaya's feet. With a stifled groan, the informant dropped to his knees and would have fallen to the floor if Shizuo hadn't caught him in time.

"You idiot," the blond growled as he cradled the bleeding informant in his arms. "Why'd you have to get yourself shot?" He looked down at the informant's stomach, trying to get a look at the damage. Izaya's pale hands were covered in blood and the fabric of his shirt was getting darker by the second. "Move your hands."

"D-don't try to play d-doctor, Sh-Shizu-chan," Izaya managed to gasp, his breath coming out sharp and shaking. "You're not Sh-Shinra."

"I know that," Shizuo growled. God, he really wished Shinra was actually here right now. If he was present, maybe this would be easier… "I know enough." He moved Izaya's hands aside and attempted to put pressure on the wound, only succeeding in coating his own palm in the informant's scarlet blood.

Izaya let out a cry of pain but followed up with a dry chuckle in a poor attempt to mask his pain. "Says the man who didn't even realize he had been shot twice."

Shizuo didn't even grace that with a response. He could ask Izaya how he knew that later but right now, he was more focused on keeping the informant alive for once. "Just don't die on me, flea."

"Like I'd be going anywhere," the informant chuckled again, the sound quickly transforming into a cough. The sudden movement in his abdomen made him flinch and he instinctively grabbed for his stomach, grabbing onto Shizuo's wrist instead. His insides felt like they were on fire and he could barely move without that fire flaring up inside of him, threatening to destroy everything in its path.

"We need to get you out of here," Shizuo muttered, moving to scoop the informant up into his arms. "Let me get you back to the compartment…"

When Shizuo tried to lift them up, Izaya could only let out another cry of pain. The movement only aggravated his wound further and more blood spilled onto the carpet beneath them. Muttering a curse under his breath, Shizuo lowered him back to the ground and put pressure back on the wound. He couldn't move Izaya without making it worse; they had no other choice but to wait for America and Japan to find them. Izaya's breathing had started to become shallow and his face had lost almost all of its color, making him look deathly pale. His usually bright red eyes were starting to dull and that shit-eating smirk of his was nowhere to be found.

"Dammit, flea," Shizuo growled. "Stay with me! Don't you _dare_ die on me!"

Izaya only smiled weakly. "It's funny, isn't it, Shizu-chan? I never thought it would end like this. I always thought you would be the one that would kill me…"

"Shut up," the bodyguard started to grind his teeth together. "Just _stay awake_."

"Aw damn, this really is a mess…"

Shizuo looked over his shoulder to see America standing in the entrance of the dining car, his blue eyes surveyed the damage done. Once his gaze reached Shizuo, his expression turned grim. He was at the bodyguard's side in seconds, focused mainly on Izaya's injuries.

"What happened?" he asked as he moved Shizuo's hand away from the informant's wound.

"They managed to find us here," Shizuo explained as America examined the informant's abdomen. "He managed to get himself shot."

America frowned and looked up at Shizuo with a grim expression. He had seen wounds like these before and it never ended well for the recipient. "Just keep putting pressure on the wound. I'll go get Kiku and we'll get him out of here, okay?"

Shizuo nodded and continued to apply pressure, holding Izaya closer to his chest. As America moved to leave, he grabbed the man's sleeve. "Wait. Tell me, is he going to make it?"

America looked the bodyguard straight in the eyes, his expression not faltering in the slightest. "I can't guarantee you anything. Just let me get Kiku and we can go from there."

The bodyguard released his sleeve and the nation sped off, leaving the car. Shizuo turned his attention back to the informant, whose eyelids were starting to droop.

"Hey, _stay awake_," he shook the informant sharply, trying to get him to stay conscious. "Look at me. Focus on _me_." He tilted Izaya's face towards his, looking him straight in the eyes. He felt his heart beat wildly in his chest; how was he supposed to comfort someone while they were possibly on their last breaths? "You're going to make it through this. I _know_ you. You always pull through, like the obnoxious flea you are. I'm only going to ask you this once- _stay alive_."

Izaya never felt so terrified in all of his life. He had always been afraid of death, afraid of the one thing that could do him in and now it lurked at his doorstep, looming over him. He fisted one of his hands in the white fabric of Shizuo's shirt as he felt himself fading from existence. It was fitting though, that he would die in Shizuo's arms, staring into those worried chestnut eyes until he faded away completely.

"Sh-Shizu…" he tried to manage until the blond cut him off.

"Shut up, flea," the bodyguard growled. "That's all you do- run your damn mouth, even when you're on your deathbed. I'm trying to save your life right now."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Izaya sighed, his voice coming out in a tired whisper. He reached a pale hand up and ghosted his fingertips against the bodyguard's cheek, smearing blood where they went.

There was this strange look on Shizuo's face, he noted. His eyes were wide and filled with some sort of alarm and his lips were parted, almost like he was worried. Izaya had never seen him look so vulnerable, as if he were made of nothing but rice paper. Did that mean that seeing his worst enemy die before him left him horrified in some way? Maybe he would actually mourn the informant's absence in the world. It was so ironic.

_That's always been your nature, hasn't it?_ Izaya smiled at this thought, letting out a short and wispy laugh. He let out one last shaky breath and he became limp in Shizuo's arms, his hand falling away from the bodyguard's cheek.

The entire universe came to a standstill. All the bodyguard could do was stare down at the informant's face, looking into now-glassy eyes. He didn't even have the thought to feel disbelief; there was just no way that this was even possible. But the dead weight in his arms and the deafening silence disproved that notion, leaving him stunned for the first time in his life. He barely even heard America enter with Japan or Japan making a call to someone named Francis. He didn't even hear America tell him over and over that it was okay and Izaya would be fine, they just had to wait for a bit. All he could do was stare at Izaya's face, his brain racing as he tried to absorb the implications.

Orihara Izaya was dead.

**It's not the end.**

**It never is.**


	20. Chapter 19: France

**And now, we move onto France! I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying this story! I do feel like I have to warn you that in a couple of chapters or so, I will have to bump the rating up to M so that change will be coming pretty soon. With that aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter and review. :)**

Chapter 19

France

_"Oh wow, I forgot how much this sucked…"_

_ Izaya opened his eyes slowly, expecting there to be either a bright light or an explosion of flames in front of him (truly, he was betting on the latter but he could dream). Instead, he woke to darkness. He found that he was also lying flat on his back, staring into a black ceiling that seemed to go on for miles. With a grunt, he propped himself up with his elbows, getting himself into a sitting position. Every part of his body ached and his head was pounding, even worse than it had after his time in Italy. _

_ "Oh, good, you're awake," the voice from before rang out, eerily similar to his own. "I was getting kinda worried over here."_

_ Izaya cast his eyes towards the voice and saw Gilbert, squatting only a few feet away from him. The silver haired nation was fiddling around with what looked like Izaya's pocketknife, carving assorted characters and symbols into the floor. "What happened?"_

_ "Oh, yeah, you're probably being a little slow on the uptake," Gilbert said, pausing his carving. "We're dead."_

_ If the informant could turn any paler, he would have. "So I'm not imagining things," he absentmindedly touched his abdomen with his hand and winced; that was right, he had been shot. "Why are we here then?"_

_ "You forgot, didn't you?" Gilbert shook his head. "I know memory hasn't been our strong suit for a while but this was a few days ago, seriously…"_

_ Izaya silenced him with a glare. "Give me a break. I just _died_ for God's sake…"_

_ "Oh come on, when you left Ikebukuro and got a taste for shooting again?" Gilbert took a second to rub his nails on his shirt, looking rather proud of himself. "Still got it, by the way."_

_ His mind went back to the night that they fled from Ikebukuro. That was right; America took a bullet to the head and was fine within a minute. "So that means…?"_

_ "We'll be coming back," Gilbert walked over to him and rapped on the informant's head with his knuckles. "We're immortal. DUH." He timed each rap with each syllable. "I know that doing this whole dying thing is taxing on the brain and disorients you for a bit but this is a bit ridiculous."_

_ "Can you stop that?" Izaya snapped, grabbing Gilbert's wrist and wrenching it away. "It's really not helping that you're calling me stupid in every other sentence."_

_ "Okay, sorry," Gilbert sighed as the informant released him. "Geez, no reason to get so snippy."_

_ The informant gave him a glower. "Sometimes, I really question the fact that we're the same person."_

_ "Well, we're still not quite there yet," Gilbert shrugged and offered the informant his hand. "Need some help getting up?"_

_ Normally, Izaya would have batted the hand away and gotten up himself but the ache in his muscles was far too much at the moment. He took hold of Gilbert's hand and allowed him to be hoisted to his feet. _

_ "Does it always hurt this much?" he asked the nation, rubbing some of his sore spots._

_ "Well, dying hurts in general," Gilbert shrugged. "Depending on how you die, the amount of pain varies. Most of us think it's because our bodies shut down for a bit and then have to reboot so everything is just reeling from such a change."_

_ "What do you think?"_

_ "I never really cared. All that was important to me was that I could die and not stay dead. Kind of a nice deal, don't you think?"_

_ "I guess," Izaya rubbed his abdomen. If the process involved this much pain, he wasn't sure if it was that fair of a deal. His scarlet eyes moved to the floor, examining Gilbert's carvings. "What are these?"_

_ Gilbert peeked over his shoulder, focusing on the carvings. "Oh, those. Just doodles, really. I got bored while waiting for you to wake up and I had nothing else better to do so…" he gestured his arms at the carvings. "Ta-da!"_

_ Izaya knelt down to inspect the carvings, one catching his eye in particular. While crude, it was unmistakably in the shape of a small bird. "What's this one?" he asked, tapping a finger at it. _

_ "Oh, that," Gilbert sat down next to him, looking a bit nostalgic. "That's Gilbird. We saw him the last time we were asleep, remember?"_

_ The informant chewed on his lip as he looked down at the bird carving, thinking back to that brief dream he had on the train. There was something about a bird, wasn't there…? "Yeah, I think…" he narrowed his eyes at Gilbert. "_Gilbird_?"_

_ "Yes, Gilbird. That was his name."_

_ "Careful, your narcissism is showing," Izaya smirked._

_ Now it was Gilbert's turn to be irritated. "Do you think it says something that you can irritate yourself?"_

_ "Oh, I'm sure it does," the informant shrugged. "I don't think I really care."_

_ "Of course," Gilbert rolled his eyes and looked back down at the carving. "Poor little guy… I hope he found Ludwig. It's been so long…"_

_ Izaya looked down at the small carving and then back to Gilbert, who had a look of longing on his face. "I'm sure he'll be with Ludwig. Don't worry."_

_ "You do know that's one of the first comforting things you've said to anyone, right?" Gilbert said, flashing the informant a wry smile._

_ "Who knows? Maybe I'm finally growing a heart," Izaya snorted._

_ "I'd say you are," Gilbert's smile became sly. "Especially concerning that bodyguard of yours."_

_ Izaya shot him a glare. "I don't want to talk about this."_

_ Gilbert's smile turned into a wolfish grin. "Come on, you're starting to feel something for him. I can tell."_

_ "You're bad at reading the atmosphere," Izaya got to his feet and began to walk away from Gilbert. "There is nothing between me and that beast."_

_ "You took a bullet for him."_

_ Izaya stopped in his tracks. "That doesn't…"_

_ "You knew he would be fine. He's been shot and lived before, arguably worse than us," Gilbert elaborated. "But you consciously threw yourself in the way, completely forgetting that you were immortal. That's not something you would have done before all of this happened. You would have gladly watched him die, probably facedown in an alley somewhere but now…"_

_ Izaya whipped around to face Gilbert, glaring daggers at the other part of his psyche. "What are you trying to say?"_

_ "That maybe, deep, deep down, you have some pretty strong feelings for this guy," the nation started to circle around Izaya, his tone teasing. "Like… love, maybe?" The informant only glared up at him. "Oho! Not so fun when _you're _the one being picked apart by some sleazy asswipe, is it?"_

_ "We both know we can't say for sure," Izaya averted his eyes as he spoke, not wanting to show any weakness to Gilbert._

_ "You can't. I can," Gilbert flashed him another wolfish grin. "You're just in denial."_

_ "I'm waking up now."_

_ "That's not up to you."_

_ "When has _anything _been up to me during this little field trip?" Izaya snapped, getting up in Gilbert's face. "From the very start, I've been told what I need to do and who I am. I've barely had a say in any of this."_

_ "You agreed to come."_

_ "I know…"_

_ "Getting cold feet?" Gilbert smiled as Izaya glared at him again. _

_ "No, I'm not," Izaya grunted, turning away from the nation. "I'm just pointing it out."_

_ "You know that Ludwig won't force us to stay if we don't want," Gilbert tried to assure him. "He'll understand."_

_ "I might as well be a dead man," the informant sighed. "I won't exist after all of this."_

_ "That's up to you."_

_ "For once," Izaya chuckled dryly. "Gilbert, we don't even know why we left the first time. What indicates that we're going to be okay with going back?"_

_ Gilbert frowned. "I'm… not sure. But we've at least come this far. Why back out now?"_

_ "I don't know," the informant sighed. "I'm just second guessing. Some of this is just hitting me now."_

_ "Hmm," the albino nodded. "Yeah, that would make sense." He suddenly perked up a bit, looking around for something that wasn't there. "Ah, okay…" He looked back Izaya. "Time for you to wake up."_

_ "Oh, so _you _decide when that happens," Izaya huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. _

_ "No, I just know when it's supposed to happen," the nation grinned. "See you next time." He poked a finger in the middle of Izaya's forehead._

_ Everything went black once more._

…

The trip to Paris had taken much longer than Shizuo liked. After America and Japan finally managed to pull him away from Izaya's body, the train stopped in the middle of its route (probably because of that call that Japan had made but he hadn't even heard some of the words) and they were whisked away by a convoy of mysterious black Sedans with tinted windows. Japan sat in the very back, cradling Izaya's head in his lap while America and Shizuo sat in the seat in front of them, America speaking in rushed French with the drivers. Shizuo barely absorbed any of it. He could only sit there, frozen in his seat as he looked back at Japan and the limp form of the informant.

He used to long for this, to see Izaya's dead body at his feet. But now, it was just too much. It didn't feel like he had hoped; he wasn't satisfied or enthused at the informant's death. Instead, it left him feeling like someone had shoved a lump of ice into his stomach, leaving him numb. He hadn't even been the one to deal the final blow but he still felt responsible. It was his job to _protect_ Izaya and the minute he turned his back, his charge was killed. He had never, _ever_ fucked up this bad.

"Hey, dude," Shizuo barely registered America waving a hand in front his face. "Shizuo! Hey!" A sharp nudge finally got his attention, bringing his focus on the nation next to him. "You okay? You've been out of it for a while."

"Sorry," the bodyguard mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is just…"

"Too much?" America's smile was loaded with pity. "It happens to the best of us."

"I had a job to do…"

"You did it to the best of your ability, Heiwajima-san," Japan assured him, looking up at his two companions. "There was nothing more you could do."

"Yeah, it sounds like he kinda put himself in that position anyways," America shrugged. "Besides, he's going to be fine. It might take some time, but he'll be back." He flashed a comforting smile in Shizuo's direction. "I promise."

The bodyguard only nodded in response, his gaze turning back to the informant's body. _You'd better come back, you fuckass, or I'll never forgive myself…_

The rest of the ride was eerily quiet and painfully drawn out. The driver kept taking spy routes, most likely due to the fact that the chance of them being followed was extremely high. The car finally stopped at a lavish Parisian house and pulled through the iron gate, whipping close to the door. Shizuo didn't even pay attention to most of the details; he was only focused on hopping out of his seat and running around to the back, scooping Izaya's body into his arms and racing to the front door. Before he had even reached the front steps, the doors opened and a man with shoulder-length blond hair and stubbly chin stood before him.

"Slow down, _mon ami_!" the man said, holding up his hands. "Do you even know where you are going?"

Shizuo stopped in his tracks but glared at the man. "I have to get him inside _now._ Get out of my way."

"Shizuo!" America ran up the stairs and placed a hand on the bodyguard's shoulder. "It's okay. This is France. He's on our side."

Shizuo's glare did not falter but the tension in his shoulders eased. He responded with only a grunt.

"We can introduce ourselves later," France smiled and gestured inside. "I can take him upstairs and get him settled in. The rest of you can finally get a chance to relax." He held his arms out, signaling for Shizuo to hand the informant over.

The bodyguard growled and held Izaya close to his chest. He was _not_ going to let him go- he couldn't fail again. France, staying remarkably calm, put his hands up in surrender.

"You can follow me up, if you wish," France offered with a kind smile. "You can trust me. I wouldn't dream of hurting one of my best friends… unless he was late on paying a debt." He winked at that last part but Shizuo really wasn't all that sure if he was joking.

The bodyguard glanced at America, who gave him a reassuring nod. "Kiku and I will get the bags. We'll meet you inside."

Shizuo gave the nation a sharp nod and followed France inside and up a large marble staircase.

"I'm sorry for the mess," France apologized on the way up. "I didn't have enough time to clean before all of you stopped by, due to that emergency. But, everything is in well enough order so it will do."

Shizuo glanced around as they climbed the stairs. What was he talking about? The place was sparkling. There didn't seem to be a single speck of dust in sight. If this was a mess, then what on earth did it look like when it was close to godliness?

"Anyways, I don't think we met before," France said up ahead of them, leading him down a hallway filled with grandiose paintings and large stone busts. Shizuo noted that a lot of the artwork depicted France himself, most likely at different times in his life. "I assume you're a new friend of Gilbert's?"

"His name is Izaya," Shizuo corrected. "And I wouldn't necessarily use the term 'friends.' But yes, we know each other."

"Oh?" France arched a sculpted eyebrow and his expression became very… Shizuo didn't even know how to describe it but it seemed perverted and made the man look like a voyeur. "So…?"

"No." The word came out hard and to the point. "Not like that either."

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, _mon ami_," France chuckled, flashing the bodyguard a suave smile. Shizuo glared right back at him. "But if that is the case, I will inquire no more. Forgive me for getting sidetracked. Your name?"

"Heiwajima Shizuo," the bodyguard said, bowing as much as he good with his arms full of the informant. "I'm his bodyguard."

"Francis Bonnefoy," the nation stopped to give him a sweeping bow. "Thank you for taking care of my friend. It really means a lot to me."

"Don't think I've done a very good job with that…"

"Ah, that's not your fault," France waved a hand in his direction as they kept moving. "He's always been getting himself into trouble. You can only protect him as much as he'll let you."

That did almost nothing to improve the bodyguard's mood but it was probably the best he was going to get at this point.

"Ah, here we are," France said, stopping at a room. "Just lay him down on the bed. He should come around soon."

The nation propped the door open and flamboyantly gestured for the other man to enter. Shizuo walked in slowly, surveying the room as he went. It was a rather sizeable bedroom, decorated with vintage looking olive green wallpaper, dotted with painted pink flowers. Assorted pictures hung on the walls and there was a door on the north side of the room, most likely leading out to a balcony of some sort. He gently laid Izaya's body on the queen-sized bed, not taking his eyes off of the informant's face. America had been kind enough to slide Izaya's eyes closed; it was better than staring into the eyes of a dead man.

"You had better wake up," he whispered to the dead man beneath him. To think, he was getting worried over this idiot. The stupid flea should have known better rather than take a bullet like that.

"Well, now that we have him all squared away, do you want me to show you to the washroom?" France asked from the doorway. Upon seeing the bodyguard throw a wary glance between him and the informant, he quickly added, "He won't be going anywhere. This is a very safe place. Besides, you look like you've been through quite a lot, _mon ami_."

In regards to that, Shizuo took a moment to look down at himself. In the rush to get Izaya to Paris, it had slipped his mind that the informant had been bleeding onto him for most of the ordeal. His white shirt was stained red as were his slacks and his hands were still coated in the informant's blood, now dried. He looked back up at France, now a little embarrassed at his own ignorance.

"That… would be for the best," he shot a sheepish look at France who only smiled in return.

"Would you prefer me to stay here?" The bodyguard nodded in response, not uttering a word. "The washroom is down the hall, just a couple doors down."

Shizuo grunted a quick "Thanks" and took off down the hall, casting one last reluctant glance in Izaya's direction before departing. As he left, France's blue eyes glanced over the other man's body, finally settling on the bodyguard's ass. There was no denying that Shizuo was handsome and France knew a great body when he saw it. With a small and mischievous snicker, he cast his eyes back to Izaya's unconscious form.

"You sure know how to pick them, _mon ami_," he chuckled to the man that was once his friend. "You always had a thing for blondes…"

…

The first thing he noticed when he finally awoke was a strange, low droning sound echoing through the room, rousting him out of slumber. Blinking his bleary eyes a few times, he was finally able to focus on the ceiling above him. How long had he been out…? With a grunt, Izaya pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing a little at a sudden ache in his abdomen. He rolled his eyes; how long was it going to take his body to recover from this? This whole immortality thing was beginning to border on ridiculous. He technically couldn't die but at the same time, he was able to die and it _hurt_.

"Gilbert, you're a fucking liar," Izaya mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "This is a terrible deal."

With death leaving his eyes as if it were sleep, the informant finally decided to take a look around the room he was in. He assumed they had somehow made it to Paris, and he planned to get the details later, so it was very likely that he was now in France's home. As looked around, he wrinkled his nose at the wallpaper; what a garish color. The combination of olive and pink assaulted his eyes and made his stomach turn. Something in the back of his mind told him that France had done this on purpose. Maybe it was Gilbert talking again…

A soft snore caught his attention and he turned his head to his right, eyes focusing on a chair in the corner. Shizuo sat in it, slumped over with his head lolling to the side. It looked like he had changed into some clean clothes but it seemed like he wasn't very committed to the action. His vest was unbuttoned and hung limply at his sides while his usual bowtie and sunglasses were nowhere to be found.

Izaya couldn't help but feel a little amused. Shizu-chan had the heart to wait for him to come to? How sweet! As Izaya watched the bodyguard sleep, his expression turned from amused to thoughtful, the small smirk completely fading from his lips. Shizuo had the heart, the _mind_ to sit and wait at Izaya's bedside until the informant finally started to live and breathe again. He hadn't even known how long it had been since he died. For all he knew, Shizuo could have been waiting there for a few days, waiting for him to crack his eyes or breathe or move or _something_.

He had to look away. Thinking about it had become too much. His face had become heated and he swore he could hear cackling in the back of his mind, drowning out the strange, brass droning and sounds of Shizuo's snores.

_Gilbert…_

"Oh, just _SHUT UP!_" he snapped, pressing both hands against his ears.

His outburst was enough to roust Shizuo from his sleep, who jerked awake with a snort. He blinked a couple of times and then focused his eyes on the informant. "Izaya?"

Izaya turned back to him, his ruby eyes locking with brown ones. Once they made eye contact, the breath left Izaya's lungs and all he could do was stare ahead at the man sitting across from him, everything in his mind coming to a screeching halt. Silence settled upon them; only that strange droning sound remained. Maybe it was music but he really didn't care. It didn't matter, not right now. All that mattered was the link between them, forged by sight alone. How many times had they locked eyes from across a room or a crowded street and just stopped to stare, even for but a second? How many times had those stares led into a moment of silence, a lapse in their usual ways of thinking? How many times had they caused the entire world to pause, to take a breath and hold it, as if waiting for their next move, to see what that stare would result in just like this?

But this time was different. Shizuo's features were not marred by a scowl of hate and Izaya's mouth refused to twist into a smirk. They remained calm. There was no anger, no shouting, no jeering, no insults; just silence. Something had changed between them. Maybe Gilbert had been right. Maybe they had started to grow closer throughout this entire ordeal and their usual mutual hate had morphed into something else. Gilbert's mocking voice rang out in Izaya's head, accusing him of wanting to be intimate with the man before him and all because he took a bullet for the man that was supposed to be his enemy.

The silence between them was perforated by the creaking of the legs of chair as Shizuo stood up and slowly closed the space between them, not breaking their gaze. Izaya felt his breath hitch and a flush spread across his cheeks. Was he really being that forward? He knew Shizuo was brash and sometimes a bit rude but he would never expect him to make a move as brave as this. As he got closer, the bodyguard bent over so that he was almost eye level with the informant, reached out a hand, and…

Punched Izaya square in the jaw.

Izaya almost flew off the bed but caught himself, clinging onto the edge of the mattress as he glared at the blond. "What the hell was that?" That was the second time the brute had punched him during this trip and he was already getting damn tired of it.

"You _fucking idiot_," Shizuo ground out, returning the glare with ease. "What the hell were you even _thinking_?" He took the informant's shoulders in his hands, shaking the other man to punctuate his sentence. "You _knew_ that I would be fine but you just went along and did what you wanted like always. You got yourself _killed_, you…" Another shake. "Fucking…" Another shake. "_Idiot_!" One last shake and he paused, opting to glare at the informant once more.

Izaya glared back at the bodyguard, his eyes filled with venom. He opened his mouth to retort, ready to shoot off a stinging insult, when Shizuo pulled him into a tight embrace, effectively silencing the informant. All Izaya could do was sit there in shock, his face pressed against the bodyguard's chest. What on earth…? He could never predict what Shizuo would do and this time, more than ever, he had been caught completely off-guard. He felt a sharp puff of air against his hair and Shizuo's chin balanced on top of his head, one of his hands holding the back of the informant's head protectively.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," the blond grunted, his grip tight on the man in his arms.

Izaya's eyelids fluttered in surprise. Had he heard that right? Was it possible that Shizuo, the strongest man in Ikebukuro, had been _scared_? With a sigh, he allowed himself to relax in the blond's arms, closing his eyes and focusing on the _thump-thump-thump_ of Shizuo's heart. The sound from earlier wafted into the room again, brassy and echoing within itself; music.

'_Quand il me prend das ses bras, il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose…_'

He opened his eyes once more to see a gramophone set in the corner closest to the door, an ancient looking record spinning happily under the needle. French lyrics filtered out of the horn of the gramophone, the tune of the song far too familiar for the informant to ignore.

'_C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie…_'

"It's _La Vie en Rose_," he sighed into Shizuo's shirt.

"What?" Shizuo's gaze slid over to the gramophone. "Oh, that. France insisted on it being in here for some reason."

Izaya glared at the gramophone, suspicious to why France of all people would do something like that. It felt like there was some sort of ulterior motive, seeing that the emotional manipulation was as plain as day. "What an asshole."

"Hm?"

"Nothing," the informant mumbled. "Don't tell Shinra?"

There was a snort of laughter from above. "Don't tell Shinra."

Izaya let himself smile at this and relaxed again, letting his eyes drift closed as he sat in the bodyguard's embrace. The music played on.

'_Et dès que je l'aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat…_'

**The song used in the last segment is _La Vie En Rose_, originally performed by French singer Edith Piaf. I thought it would stand to reason that France would have the original recording of this famous song; it's quite the national treasure! **


	21. Chapter 20: Latch

**Here is chapter 20! This is a longer chapter and contains yaoi, so be warned! I would recommend listening to "Latch" by Disclosure. It helped me write this chapter and I can no longer picture this chapter being separate from it. Hope you enjoy! Please review, thanks for reading!**

Chapter 20

Latch

He could have sat there for hours, maybe days, leaning into Shizuo's warm embrace. It was actually a little funny. In all of their years fighting each other, having the bodyguard's arms wrapped around him was one of the last things Izaya ever wanted to happen, especially since it would be coupled with his spine snapping and possibly being crushed to death. Instead of receiving that crushing feeling that he worked so very hard to avoid, the arms around him were gentle and caring, the opposite of what he had come to expect from the blond. They really had changed a lot, hadn't they? And all within the course of a few days…

With a small grunt, he snuggled closer to the bodyguard's chest, creeping his arms up Shizuo's back and hooking his fingers on the collar of the bodyguard's shirt. He swore he could feel Shizuo tense at his touch but the tension in the blond's shoulders disappeared as quickly as it had come. The gramophone crackled in the background, signifying that the record had reached its end, filling the silence with static. After a good few minutes, the silence became a bit uneasy. Usually, there was a lot more yelling involved whenever they were within five feet of each other. Silence, especially for this long, was a foreign concept.

"How long was I out?" Izaya asked, deciding to break the silence. It was his forte, of course.

"A good five or six hours," Shizuo mumbled from above, his grip loosening ever so slightly. "I lost track of the time…"

The informant opened his eyes and searched the room, landing on a clock near the doorway. It was past one, most likely in the morning due to the lack of sunlight that would have been filtering into the room if it were the afternoon.

"What happened after… after I died?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the clock.

"We got you here as fast as we could," the bodyguard explained, his fingers absentmindedly twisting in the informant's hair. "Got you in here and I said I would stay until you woke up."

Izaya snorted, rolling his eyes. Leave it to Shizu-chan to give him the footnotes version of what happened. Regardless, he was on target with his earlier assumption; Shizuo _had_ chosen to stay by his side. He felt his face flush at the thought and he quickly tried to change the subject, choosing to focus on the terrible wallpaper that surrounded them.

"It was very nice of you to put me in a room with such terrible wallpaper, Shizu-chan," he snorted in Shizuo's grip. "Were you hoping such a garish combination of colors would keep me unconscious until we got to the Netherlands?"

"You think it's shit too, huh?" the blond chuckled. "France actually insisted you stay in here. He said you would 'appreciate' it."

Izaya clicked his tongue and buried his face in Shizuo's chest again, sparing his eyes. "Probably did that on purpose, just to spite me I bet."

"How do you know?"

"Maybe I've been here before and have always hated it," the informant shrugged. "Either way, it's ugly."

"Hm," from above, Shizuo sounded almost amused. "Well, you're alive." He released his grip on the informant and got to his feet, brushing away Izaya's arms from his back. "I should probably tell everyone else that you haven't kicked the bucket quite yet."

As he went to leave, Izaya reached out and grabbed his wrist, dragging the bodyguard back a step. "Wait."

"What is it, flea?" Shizuo sighed but his tone didn't hold the same note of contempt that it tended to. He didn't even turn around to glare at him; that was a first.

"There are quite a few things that you and I need to talk about," Izaya stated evenly, eyes focused on the bodyguard's back. "And don't even try to say you don't know what I'm talking about. You know damn well what I mean. Besides, everyone else is probably asleep by now."

He heard a low sigh come from the bodyguard and Shizuo turned towards him, expectant. "What is it then?"

"You know as well as I do," Izaya countered, looking up into big brown eyes. "Something has changed between us. I'm sure you've noticed."

Shizuo only nodded in response. It was true; he had noticed. Their encounters lacked violence and they could actually have civil conversations for the first time in their lives. Of course the flea still got on his nerves but his responses had become subdued. He no longer ripped up the closest object just for tossing at the informant. He was now in the position of protecting the flea but that no longer weighed on his mind. It was actually getting easier to be around Izaya, almost as if he were getting used to the other man's presence. And the shot of fear he had felt when the informant had laid dying in his arms…

It was all very different. Maybe he was starting to genuinely care for the flea. Maybe that was why he insisted at waiting at Izaya's bedside, despite all the offers and reassurances from the nations. He sat there for hours, waiting for some sign of life from the informant, until drifting off to sleep. That wasn't something he would have done normally, especially for the man that had tried so hard to destroy his life.

"This is… different," he said, after clearing his throat. "You normally don't want to talk and if you do, there are usually strings attached."

"Maybe that shows how much we've changed," the informant sighed.

"I think it really started to show through when you took a _bullet_ for _me_," Shizuo looked down at the informant, crossing his arms over his chest.

Izaya could feel those hazel eyes boring into his skull as he lowered his eyes, focusing on the carpet below. "There is that…"

The blond let out a large sigh and scratched the back of his head, casting his eyes to the floor. "Look, flea, I know we've never gotten along…"

"That's an understatement."

"Will you shut up and let me talk?" Shizuo glared at the informant, effectively rendering him silent. "You just wouldn't do that, in all the years we've known each other. So, yeah, a lot has changed."

Silence fell over them once more. The air became tense as the unasked question hung between the two of them- what did this all mean? Where was their relationship going from here? It remained unspoken as the informant sat, chewing at his lip and staring down at the ground, while the bodyguard looked at his feet. The ticking of the clock echoed throughout the room.

"What did you want to talk about?" Shizuo asked, breaking the silence this time around. "You said there were a few things…"

Izaya nodded. "I doubt you can't guess what my first question will be."

He could have sworn that the blond tensed again but just like before, the moment was fleeting and created the illusion that nothing in the bodyguard's demeanor had changed. "I can't stop you. Go ahead."

"What happened that night?" Izaya asked, clearing his throat. "In Italy."

"You really want to know?" the bodyguard sighed, taking a seat on the bed.

"I think I deserve to know."

"Is it that important?"

"I don't know, Shizuo," Izaya snapped, clearly frustrated. "I was _only_ blackout drunk and _something_ happened that I should probably know about, but hey, it's not _that_ important!"

Shizuo let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're that serious, huh? You wandered into our room, drunk off your ass, and jabbered on about nothing for a few minutes."

"Like _what_?"

"Nothing important," Shizuo snorted. "You kept blabbering on about my hair and my muscles, I think. I don't know, you slurred all your words together. It was hard to understand."

"Ah…" Izaya stuttered, feeling his face turn red. He scooted closer to Shizuo, now a little more than flustered. "Any… anything else?"

Shizuo was quiet for a minute and suddenly the air felt very tense and heavy, much worse than it had been before. "We… you…" he balled his hands into fists, kneading the bed sheets underneath. "You… planted one on me…"

Izaya knitted his eyebrows together, mulling the phrase over, and then spotted how red the other's face was. He wasn't kidding, was he? Then again, why would Shizuo joke about something like that in the first place? He felt the heat rush up to his own face and had to take a few seconds to regain his bearings. "I… um… oh." He placed a hand over his mouth and propped his elbows on his knees, rocking back and forth. What should he say to that? Should he apologize? Should he confess his newfound attraction or just heckle Shizuo instead in an attempt to get things back to normal? Instead, he was speechless, too many options to choose from.

Instead, Shizuo broke the silence. "And then you threw up on my shoes."

Izaya snorted in laughter and to his surprise, he heard the bodyguard chuckling next to him. He turned to see a small smile on the blond's face, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Sorry about that," Izaya grinned, eyes softening at Shizuo's expression. He didn't see him smile very often. He looked very nice that way…

"For what? The kiss or blowing chunks all over me?"

Izaya flushed at the mention of their kiss. "Vomiting on you, of course. I'm surprised you didn't bitch about it earlier…"

"So does that mean you don't regret it?"

Izaya froze, suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in. Shizuo stared back at him, brown eyes quizzical and… there was something else, something gentle. His mouth flapped open and closed a couple of times before he finally realized that no sound was coming out. After clearing his throat once more, he managed a "Do you?"

Shizuo turned his gaze downward. "I… I'm not sure… Everything has been different lately. I don't know what's normal anymore."

"Our entire world has been turned upside-down, hasn't it?" Izaya chuckled, a smile on his face. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Is… that a bad thing?" the blond asked quietly.

The informant slid his eyes back to his bodyguard. His posture had changed dramatically. While he normally slouched, he at least kept the image of being big, strong, and tall, towering above everyone else. Now, he was almost trying to curl into himself, his long arms wrapped around his body. His eyes, normally focused, were distant and confused. His face was flushed beet red and he kept avoiding the informant's gaze. Izaya inhaled deeply, taking in the meaning of what he was seeing.

"It doesn't have to be."

Izaya inched closer to Shizuo, sliding his hand closer to the blond's. He had been battling with his feelings for so long and now, he was finally getting a confirmation of what it all meant. Everything he had felt during this trip, concerning Shizuo, all pointed to one thing. If it were a snake, it would have bitten him a long time ago. His slim fingers inched closer to Shizuo's hand and he slowly curled them around the other man's hand, causing his heart to rocket into his throat. The bodyguard turned to face him, cheeks flushed. Izaya swallowed hard, fighting against the rock that had formed in his throat, trying to muster up the right words for what he needed to say.

"Shizuo… I…"

Before he could say anything more, Shizuo leaned in close, cupping the informant's face with his other hand, and pressed his lips against Izaya's. Izaya blinked once in shock and then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his free arm around Shizuo's neck.

When they broke apart, both quite breathless, Shizuo looked Izaya dead in the eyes and said, in a deep sultry voice, "Yeah… Me too."

Izaya wasted no time after that. He wrapped his arms around Shizuo's shoulders and pulled him back into a kiss, this time around being a little more needy and passionate. Their lips clashed together, hot and wet, and they both moved close together, Shizuo pulling Izaya's waist closer so that the informant was almost in his lap. Izaya clutched at the bodyguard's shoulders and deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter Shizuo's mouth. The blond seemed to jerk in surprise but followed suit, wrapping their tongues together as his hands traveled from Izaya's waist to his face. Fingers ghosted over the soft fabric of Shizuo's usual bartender uniform and eventually found the edges of his shirt collar, drifting over exposed collarbones. He then focused on the vest as well, sliding it off of the other man's shoulders as the blond took an opportunity to nip at his bottom lip.

He clutched the collar of Shizuo's shirt in order to pull him closer as they parted ever so slightly for air, breaths coming out in short and labored puffs. In response, Shizuo wrapped his hands around Izaya's waist, copping a feel for just a microsecond, and plopped the smaller man onto his lap so that Izaya was straddling him. Now _this_ was new. Never in a million years did he ever expect to be locking lips with the fortissimo of Ikebukuro. But now, contact with the bodyguard heated the blood flowing under his skin to a boil and the fingers clamped around his waist were like hot irons pressing against his skin, driving him to go further. Releasing Shizuo's collar, Izaya let his hands wander down the blond's shoulders and to the buttons of his dress shirt, undoing them one at a time.

Hands suddenly enveloped his. "Stop." He looked down at the blond, who had moved his hands away from his shirt. Izaya looked at him for a minute, perplexed, until Shizuo raised a finger inches away from the informant's nose. "Let me."

Not breaking eye contact, Shizuo unbuttoned his shirt, fingers moving slowly as if they were caressing a lover. Once completely unbuttoned, he shrugged it off of his arms and tossed it behind them, where it landed on the headboard of the bed. Following suit, Izaya pulled his own shirt off over his head and tossed it away before crashing his lips against Shizuo's once more. Teeth clacked together and hands ran across tender flesh, searching and grabbing, caressing with upmost care. Shizuo broke away from their kiss and peppered Izaya's throat with kisses, earning a sensual moan from the informant. He eventually settled on the crook of Izaya's neck, kissing and sucking at the flesh. A small gasp fell from Izaya's lips and he pressed himself closer to the blond's body, digging his nails into Shizuo's back. Shizuo then went for a bite, nipping at the pale skin and causing Izaya to arch his back, eliciting another moan.

Izaya pushed at the blond's neck, forcing him to meet his eyes. Shizuo's brown eyes were glassy, pooling with passion. Maybe he could get used to this strange new side to Shizuo, the one that looked at him with a gentle and loving gaze- he certainly looked much more attractive with that face. One large hand stroked Izaya's raven hair, gently running through his locks, as their noses touched. Their breath intermingled as the blond stared into Izaya's eyes. Of all people, it had to be the flea, the only person that actively sought him out. The man that usually blinded him with rage now made his head swim and touching the informant's bare skin caused his entire being to ache for more. Once his hand reached the nape of the informant's neck, he pulled him into another kiss, his other arm encircling Izaya's waist. Izaya ran his hands down Shizuo's chest, tracing every inch with his nimble fingers. His fingers surveyed the entirety of the blond's body; his pecs, his ribcage, and his strong abs. After brushing his fingertips over Shizuo's abs, he ran them lower, hooking his fingers under the bodyguard's belt.

The blond jolted at the touch, his hands immediately grabbing Izaya's. The informant broke away from their kiss and eyed him, cocking an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"I…" Shizuo paused to catch his breath then turned his eyes to look up at Izaya. "How far do you want to go?"

A sultry smile spread across Izaya's face and he leaned in closer, ghosting his lips over the blond's. "As far as we can, Shizu-chan~."

Shizuo grabbed the other man's shoulders and pushed him back, looking him straight in the eye. "Look, I…" he paused, face suddenly very flushed. "I haven't done this before, okay?"

Izaya cocked his head to the side, eyes blank for a second. A wicked grin then broke out on his face. "Shizu-chan's a virrrgiiin~"

"Shut up!" Shizuo snapped, giving the informant a firm shake. "I'm not sure what to do when we get to that point…" His eyes were downcast now and his face was flushed, now leaning away from the informant. Of all of the people to admit that to, it _had_ to be Izaya. "Look, we don't have to, especially if you're going to be like that…"

"Awww, don't be like that, Shizu-chan," Izaya pouted and inched closer, his lips teasing the blond's earlobe. "That's not a bad thing." His tongue flicked out along the shell of Shizuo's ear. Underneath him, the bodyguard tensed. "Please?" he pressed a kiss to the blond's jaw. "Come on, Shizu-chan." Another kiss, tracing Shizuo's jaw line. "One more try?"

Shizuo pushed him back a little and glared at him. The flush across his cheeks, however, softened the ferocity of his gaze to plain embarrassment. "Alright but…" he paused, his face turning a deeper red. He hated admitting vulnerability to that stupid flea but those lips against his skin… "I might need… help."

Izaya reached out, tilted the blond's chin up, and placed a small kiss on his nose. "Just follow my lead. You'll know what to do."

Shizuo nodded, face still flushed red, and pressed a trail of kisses along Izaya's jaw line and down to his neck as the informant returned his fingers to his belt, undoing the buckle and loosening the bodyguard's slacks. As he surveyed his work, his crimson eyes settled on the bulge forming in Shizuo's pants and a mischievous smile graced his lips.

"Well, what do we have here?" he mused aloud and cupped the blond's erection, rubbing it through the fabric.

He felt a puff of air against his neck as Shizuo gasped, stiffening at the touch. Arms tightened around him as he began to run his hand up and down the shaft, pumping as slowly as he possibly could. As he ran his fingers down the length, he couldn't help but smile at how big Shizuo was. He had his suspicions but damn, was Shizuo holding out on him. A strange sound came from the bodyguard's lips, as close to a whimper as he could possibly emit. Izaya raised his eyebrows at this; he never knew Shizuo was capable of making such a sound and it seemed to go straight to his own crotch, increasing the size of his own erection. Nevertheless, the thought made him grin wickedly. Shizuo was going to be putty in his hands and it would only take a few more pumps to do so.

He slid his hand up and down the shaft a few more times and the sound came forth again, this time followed by Shizuo's hips bucking into his own. The sudden movement nearly threw Izaya off-balance; he had almost forgotten about Shizuo's Herculean strength. In order to counter-act this, he slid closer to Shizuo's hips, squeezing their thighs together so that he could hold on. The blond's hands gripped tightly onto Izaya's shoulders and his hot breath spilled out onto the informant's back, letting out a low moan as Izaya kept going.

"Faster," he moaned into Izaya's collarbone and bucked his hips harder once the informant complied.

As Izaya picked up speed, Shizuo tilted his head up and captured the informant's lips in a sloppy kiss, his teeth clinging to Izaya's bottom lip. Izaya wrapped his arms around Shizuo's shoulders and their hips crashed together, erections rubbing against each other. They both moaned into each other's mouths, now completely overtaken by boiling blood and surging hormones. Shizuo's hands traveled down to Izaya's slight waist and slipped into his jeans, squeezing the soft flesh of his buttocks. Izaya responded by fingering the zipper of Shizuo's slacks, sliding it down and trying to push them down past the other man's thighs.

"Hold on," Shizuo murmured and wrapped an arm around Izaya's waist, lifting him up and laying him down on the bed beneath.

Their lips melted together once more, Izaya's hands clutching the sides of Shizuo's face as their tongues wrapped together. The bodyguard reached down towards his slacks, tearing the fabric off of his legs as if it were on fire. He then went to work on Izaya's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, rubbing the erection underneath every now and then as he tried to peel the jeans off of the informant's legs. Izaya inhaled sharply at the touch and moaned when the blond kept alternating between rubbing and stripping. With trembling fingers, he reached down and helped Shizuo pull down his jeans, the fabric soon flying down to meet the rest of their clothes on the floor. Now, they were clad only in their underwear, hips grinding together in their heated passion.

It came to be Izaya's turn to buck violently into Shizuo and he made sure to grind against him as slowly as possible, hoping to hear that strange sound again. This time, the blond merely moaned and lowered his hips against Izaya's, beginning to thrust up against the smaller man's clothed opening. The informant thrust back, matching Shizuo's rhythm perfectly, but still let out a large moan when Shizuo's speed increased.

"Oh… oh God…" he moaned, wrapping his legs around Shizuo's waist as he arched his back at the touch. "…Fuck me…"

The bodyguard paused, panting and flushed. "Wh-what?"

"I said fuck me," Izaya panted. "Get inside of me and fuck me."

"I…" Shizuo swallowed and licked his lips, noticing how dry they were. This was exactly where his expertise on the subject ended. "Do we need anything? Like con…?"

"Do you _have_ anything? Diseases of any sort?"

"No…?"

"I don't either. Great!" Izaya exclaimed in mock excitement. "Now take off those damn boxers and _fuck me_."

While it was tempting to go along with Izaya's whims, Shizuo found himself hesitating even though every nerve in his body was screaming that he do otherwise. "What if I hurt you…?" That was only one question out of many that were running through his head. Should he even be doing this? Where on earth would this even go…?

Beneath him, Izaya blinked in surprise. Now, of all times, Shizuo was worried about hurting him? But the worried and slightly ashamed expression on the blond's face struck a chord and he couldn't help but reached out and cup the blond's cheek in his hand.

"If I can take you tossing whatever detritus you can grab at me, then I can handle a little sex," he purred and started to slide his other hand down Shizuo's stomach, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers. "Let's keep going. I know you want to…" The shuddering breath that tumbled from the Shizuo's lips once his fingers wrapped around the blond's member was confirmation enough. "Shizu-chan~"

That sultry voice erased any worries that he had. Upon being released from Izaya's grip, Shizuo nearly tore his boxers off and pitched them over his shoulder, as if he were throwing them out of existence. His fingers then hooked into the band of Izaya's briefs and he peeled them off, revealing the informant's erection which was standing tall and proud against his pale stomach. From below him, Izaya looked almost like a fragile porcelain doll, his skin looking pale and breakable. It nearly made his hands shake. The multiple scars from his days as a nation looked like cracks in this particular doll, marring his beautiful skin. Shizuo bowed his head and kissed them, from the top of Izaya's sternum to just below his navel. The informant let out a shuddering breath, fingers curling into the bed sheets as his back arched once more. The blond brought his head back up to Izaya's, their noses touching, and melted their lips together. Izaya's arms came up to wrap around Shizuo's neck, clinging onto him.

The gasp that Izaya made when Shizuo finally slid into him was inevitable.

"You… okay…?" Shizuo asked between labored breaths.

"Fine," Izaya whimpered. "Just… whatever you do, _don't stop_."

The bodyguard complied and began to thrust, starting out rather slow and building up speed as they went. With every thrust, Izaya clung tighter to Shizuo and moaned louder and louder. Shizuo's thrusts grew stronger and faster, turning Izaya's moans into shrill gasps, only leaving his mouth with every thrust. The bodyguard was now lost to his instincts, the smell of sex driving him onward. He panted like a dog in heat and his fingers tore at the sheets, digging into the mattress below. He was so close, the euphoria far too intoxicating for him to stop. Izaya, almost breathless, clung to Shizuo's neck and buried his face into the bodyguard's sweaty shoulder, near to be unable to contain himself.

The last two thrusts did them in. Shizuo climaxed with a loud gasp, releasing his load into his partner's insides. Izaya arched his back with a strangled moan and he came as well, splattering Shizuo's stomach with sticky fluid.

Out of breath, Shizuo pulled out and rolled over to lie next to Izaya, who was still trying to catch his. He propped his head up with his elbow and smiled wryly at the informant.

"Not too bad for… a twenty four year old virgin… huh?" Shizuo panted and Izaya swore the bodyguard gave him a quick wink.

Izaya let out a soft snicker. "Yeah, not too bad at all…" He wasn't sure where this new, fun side of Shizuo had come from but he wasn't going to complain anytime soon.

"Was that a compliment? From _you_?" the bodyguard feigned disbelief. "Maybe I literally fucked your brains out."

"I'm pretty sure I'm all together here," Izaya patted the top of his head. "No leaks."

"Smartass," Shizuo chuckled as the informant rolled over to face him full on.

They locked eyes for a few minutes, chestnut brown on crimson. Shizuo's expression had turned almost tranquil, his eyes soft and loving and a small smile on his face. Izaya smiled too until he saw the look in those eyes, a look that was completely foreign to him. He blinked a couple of times, thinking of the implications, and cast his eyes downward, purposefully avoiding Shizuo's gaze. He had just had sex with Shizuo Heiwajima; this was the furthest thing from normal, even when they were wrapped up in this nation mess. This man was normally his enemy but now he looked at him with love instead of burning hatred and deep down, it shook the informant to his core. The scariest part? He didn't even care about "normal" anymore.

"Damn, I'm exhausted," the blond yawned, shaking Izaya out of his inner monologue. "Is this how it's like every time?"

"Pretty much."

"Hm," Shizuo grunted, and turned his body towards the headboard. "Well, I guess we might as well get some sleep so we don't look completely trashed tomorrow…" He stopped, staring straight ahead at the headboard.

Izaya followed his gaze and his eyes fell on the headboard, which was now completely demolished. He smirked and let out a low whistle. "Damn. You _are_ good."

Shizuo, on the other hand, looked completely mortified. They hadn't heard the crack of wood at all but given the intensity of the situation, it wasn't surprising. There was also a shallow dent in the wall where the headboard should have been, indicating that it had been smashed to pieces against said wall. "Oh my god," he groaned and turned to Izaya, clearly worried. "I… I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Izaya blinked, unused to this level of concern from his bodyguard. "No…? I'm fine."

"I'll have to pay for that, won't I?"

"More likely than not."

Shizuo let out a sigh of defeat but crawled underneath the covers regardless. "I'll worry about it tomorrow. Too tired."

Izaya eyed the headboard suspiciously but followed Shizuo's example anyways. "Fine, but it's your fault if I get a splinter in my ass."

Shizuo let out a low chuckle and cuddled close to his partner, wrapping an arm around his waist. He took Izaya's chin in one hand and gently pressed a kiss against his lips. This kiss wasn't rushed or driven by lust; it was slow, tender, and caring- genuine.

He pulled back with a smile. "Goodnight." He pressed a kiss to Izaya's forehead and wrapped himself around the informant, his chin resting on top of Izaya's head, right in the middle of the silver streak.

Izaya pressed himself against Shizuo's body, head resting on the blond's chest. He glanced up at the bodyguard's peaceful face and then cast he eyes downward, chewing his lip. He then just opted for snuggling close to Shizuo, at least until morning came.


	22. Chapter 21: The Morning After

**How long has it been, really? Sorry this chapter took so long but I found myself caught up with a bunch of things and the Fourth of July weekend so I didn't have a lot of time to work on this. But here it is and it's a long one this time around. Hope you enjoy! Please review. :)**

Chapter 21

The Morning After

White lace floated on the air as the curtains surrounding the balcony door parted, a cool breeze wafting into the room. Sunlight followed, cutting through the darkness of the room and settling on the bed. That single beam of sunlight was enough to roust Izaya from his sleep, blinking his eyes and squinting at the light. With a soft grumble, he tried to roll away from the light by burying his face into the blankets but it was all in vain. He was awake now and no amount of retreating into the blankets would get him back to sleep. Still blinking the sleep from his eyes, he focused his ruby eyes on the bare chest in front of him. Ah, so Shizu-chan was still there, his strong arms wrapped tightly around the informant as he slept. He couldn't help but admire how calm and gentle Shizuo's face was, his lips parted ever so slightly and he softly inhaled and exhaled.

Never in a million years had he expected to be here, sleeping naked next to the man that had wanted him dead for nearly ten years. But here he was, head resting against the blond's chest and listening to the beat of the bodyguard's strong heart instead of wanting to cut the troublesome thing out with his own knife. He wasn't even sure if this was the right decision to make. There were so many potential drawbacks to having this newfound relationship with Shizuo; his immortality was one thing but they were sure to part ways once they reached The Hague.

_As per usual, you're ruining everything, aren't you, Shizu-chan?_ he couldn't help but think as he reached out to brush some blond locks out of the bodyguard's eyes. He just had to fall for the stupid brute, didn't he? He moved his hand down to caress the blond's cheek, being careful to not wake his lover.

_Lover_.

Shizuo Heiwajima was his _lover. _Gilbert had been right all this time; he had been developing feelings for his former enemy and now they were fully realized. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to think about. Maybe they had been this way all along, in denial until they reached their boiling point. Maybe this would be part of his new "normal…"

Speaking of Gilbert, the nation hadn't said a peep at all during the night. Even after being proven right, Gilbert had been strangely quiet. It was almost unnerving. Izaya just decided to assume that intercourse with Shizuo had tired him out and he nearly felt relieved to not have Gilbert jeering in the back corner of his mind. Finally, he could have some peace and quiet. He could worry about Gilbert later.

A small snort snapped him out of his thoughts and he focused on Shizuo again, who was now stirring from his slumber. His soft brown eyes slid open and focused on Izaya, his pupils slowly adjusting to the light in the room. Now _that_ was a sight that he could get used to…

Shizuo flashed the informant a very small and lazy smile, something that Izaya would probably never get used to, and mumbled, "Mornin'…"

"Sleep well, Shizu-chan?" Izaya purred, his lips curling into a smirk. "I didn't know I could wear you out so easy. Maybe if I had known before, I would have exploited this relationship sooner."

"It's too early to deal with your bullshit," Shizuo grumbled and pulled Izaya closer to his chest. "Just shut up and go back to sleep."

"Can't," the informant sighed. "I'm already awake. Can't go back to sleep after I'm awake."

"So you decide to wake me up instead?" the blond snorted but still gave the informant a tired smile. "Thanks, flea…"

"I'm a light sleeper," Izaya rolled his eyes, resting his chin in the crook of Shizuo's neck.

"Then why didn't you wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Going a round with you must have taken it out of me," the informant purred into the bodyguard's ear, taking the opportunity to nibble at Shizuo's earlobe. "For a virgin, you sure know how to get the job done."

"Oi," the blond grunted, jabbing the other man in the side. "Don't start that now. There are other people in this house, remember?"

Izaya pulled back, a false pout on his lips. "What's the matter, Shizu-chan? Not up for a quick round of morning sex?"

"Flea…"

"Hmmmm, Shizu-chan's right," the informant pulled himself out of the bodyguard's embrace, bringing himself into a sitting position. "We should probably be better guests, right?"

"That's one way of putting it," Shizuo grumbled as he sat up, leaning back against the broken headboard. He glanced quickly between Izaya and the bed, his face flushing ever so slightly. "So… what happens now?"

The informant paused, taking in the bodyguard's expression. Ah yes, that was right- he was still quite inexperienced with these things. _Who would have thought that Shizu-chan would be so innocent?_ "_I'm_ going to go take a shower," he said, sliding out from underneath the covers. He didn't fail to notice that Shizuo's eyes were locked firmly on his ass and glanced back at the blond over his shoulder, lowering his eyelids seductively. "Maybe you'd like to join me?"

The look on Shizuo's face was priceless. His face had turned a deep red and his mouth was hanging open, no doubt still trying to process what the informant had just said. "I… uh…"

"It's okay if you don't want to, Shizu-chan," Izaya chuckled as he slipped on his underwear. "Like you said, better guests, right?"

"I didn't actually say that…"

Izaya shrugged as he searched for his pants; details, details. "So that's a no on shower sex then?"

He smirked when the blond flushed red once more. "Yeah… not right now. Besides, I should probably check in with Celty and Shinra. I haven't contacted them since we were in Italy."

"Suit yourself," Izaya smirked as he pulled on his pants and got back down on his knees, now on a quest to find his shirt. Why did he have to toss it somewhere without looking? It made getting dressed after sex needlessly complicated. "Tell them I said hi."

"What should I tell them?"

"Not about us, if that's what you're asking," Izaya's eyes flitted over to the gramophone, spotting the dark fabric draped over it. "Ah, there it is…"

"I guessed as much," Shizuo shrugged. "The timing isn't right. I didn't mean that, by the way…"

"You mean about me dying?" Izaya frowned as he poked a finger through the hole in his shirt. This shirt was beyond all hope… He had barely noticed the dry blood the night before but then again, he had something else on his mind. Tossing the shirt aside, he stalked over to his duffel bag and pulled out a fresh shirt. "I'm pretty sure we agreed on not mentioning that to Shinra."

"I know but what happened on the train won't stay quiet. They're going to ask questions."

"Just do the best you can," the informant sighed as made his way to the door. "You're not entirely stupid. I'm sure you'll come up with a fantastic story."

"Tch," the blond only snorted in response. That was interesting. Normally, a comment like that would have elicited more out of the bodyguard instead of a simple grunt. Maybe having a good lay had managed to calm the beast…

_I will be keeping that in mind_, Izaya thought to himself as he gathered up his clothing. "Oh, and you might want to put some pants on before you try to talk to them. I don't think Shinra would appreciate it if you were somehow able to woo his headless bride with your sizeable…" he trailed off, a smirk on his face as his eyes settled on Shizuo's crotch. "I'm sure you know what I'm getting at."

For the third time that day, the blond's face turned a deep red. "That wouldn't…"

"Happen, I know," Izaya chuckled as he sauntered towards the door. "After last night, I don't think I'd let anyone else lay hands on you…"

He gave the bodyguard one last wink and slipped out of the room, heading in the general direction of the bathroom… or at least, where he thought it would be. By all means, he should have been completely lost, especially in a house as large as this. But something in the back of his mind told him that he had been here before so getting to different rooms posed no problem; he was merely acting on instinct. On his way down the hall, he quickly rubbed at the small of his back, hissing at the ache that had developed there. He had made sure to hide it from Shizuo as he left- getting the brute worried about hurting him would do him no favors. He could do without Shizuo fussing over him, especially when it was Izaya's fault for not opting for lubrication of any sort.

Upon reaching the bathroom, Izaya couldn't help but feel relieved that he hadn't run into any of the nations on his way. He swore he could hear America jabbering excitedly downstairs but he didn't have the heart to go and investigate. He was in no mood to explain why his gait was slightly off or why he was currently shirtless. As far as he was concerned, no one else needed to know about his sex life, especially if it involved Shizuo. He was even more grateful when he noticed the small bruises dotting his chest and the rise of his hips as he faced the bathroom mirror. Explaining the rather painful looking hickey on his neck would have ruined his day.

"And I thought Shizu-chan was going easy on me," he muttered as he ghosted his fingers over the bruise on his neck. For all he knew, that was probably as gentle as Shizuo could get during sex. No matter-with the healing times that nations had, the hickey would be gone by the time he got out of the shower.

As he examined his body in the mirror, his eyes drifted up to his hair and a deep frown formed on his lips. _Dammit_. The silver streak in his hair had expanded its reach, now covering the top of his head. "Now I look like some idiot that bleached his hair for too long…"

"_Sorry, man, comes with the package_," a terribly familiar voice rang out.

Izaya glared at the mirror. His reflection was smirking back at him, red eyes twinkling. "You are literally the last person I want to talk to right now. Feel free to hassle me later."

"_And here I thought that mind-blowing sex would get you to ease up a bit_," Gilbert sighed, his tone mocking. "_So I see you came to terms with your feelings. Congrats._"

"So this is your 'I told you so' speech?" the informant let out a snort and turned away from the mirror. "Very mature."

"_I've never been known for my maturity_," Gilbert chuckled. "_But really, congrats. That was some great sex, even for a first-timer like him._"

"Why do you care?"

"_We're in the same body. I should care about who we sleep with_," the nation gave him a Cheshire grin. "_Don't try to deny it. Last night was great._"

Gilbert was right; Shizuo was _beyond_ fantastic. But Izaya would rather die than give anyone, even Gilbert, the satisfaction of being right over him. His silence, however, was damning.

"_I had a feeling you'd agree,_" he heard Gilbert sigh and he turned back to the nation, surprised to see a content smile on the albino's face. "_He sure has a body that is nothing short of superb, doesn't he?_"

Gilbert may not have been human but Izaya could still read him like a book. "You love him."

The albino gave him a small smile that bordered on melancholic. "_We both love him_."

"Doesn't that present problems?" the informant asked the nation, trying to conceal the sudden flush on his face. "We're immortal."

"_I know that_," Gilbert sighed. "_Just… ask Francis. I can't really tell you any details but I remember that Francis has had some experience with this sort of thing_." His expression suddenly shifted to one of amusement. "_Suddenly worried about your boyfriend?_"

Izaya shot a glare at him. "I'm taking a shower now."

As he turned to start the water, he heard Gilbert's voice ring out one last time:

"_Trust me, ask Francis. He's bound to know. He's always been good with this sort of thing…_"

…

Shizuo had managed to get dressed not long after Izaya had departed and in due time, the laptop that Shinra had lent him was sitting in his lap and his strong fingers were poised over the keys. What was he going to say to them? He hoped he could keep a straight face in front of them. Luckily, Shinra barely picked up on these things but Celty was perceptive, especially when it concerned him.

He couldn't recall the last time he had felt like a little kid in trouble, feeling like balling his hands behind his back almost as if he were about to get interrogated by a cross schoolteacher. But that feeling flooded back into him as he scanned through the missed messages he had. Most of them were from Celty and quite a few were from Shinra, both inquiring about how and where they were. However, Celty's tone seemed to elevate from calm to panicked with each message:

_Shizuo,_

_ How is Italy? I hope you were able to see some of the sights. I've never been to Italy but I'm sure it's beautiful! Please let us know how you're doing. Shinra has something to tell the both of you and he'd rather it be done over video chat. _

_-Celty_

_ Shizuo,_

_ We heard there was some sort of incident on a train that was going from Rome to Paris. Shinra says there weren't a lot of details so we're assuming it's connected to you. The article he found did say there was a shooting. Please let us know if you're okay! _

_-Celty_

_ Shizuo,_

_ I'm getting very worried about you now! Please answer your messages! I hope you haven't forgotten… We just need to know if you're okay! Get in touch ASAP!_

_-Celty_

_ Shizuo,_

_ I don't mean to push or anything but please respond. Celty is about ready to go to Paris herself and I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stop her. Also, she's been flooding the apartment with black smoke so I would really appreciate it if you got back to us. While I don't mind breathing in my love's smoke, it's getting really hard to see anything so please, let us know that you and Izaya are okay!_

_-Shinra_

Those were only a few examples of the messages he had missed and with everyone he skimmed over, he felt his stomach slowly tightening with guilt. It wasn't as if he had meant to ignore them, after all the incident on the train had left everyone busy, but he couldn't help but feel ashamed for making his friends so worried, Celty especially. She had been far too kind for him to drive her into a frenzy over his absence. Without a moment to spare, he moved to try and initiate the video chat, hoping that it would somehow keep the dullahan from tearing her way across the globe. Before he could even click Shinra's chat name, the screen lit up with a request from just the person he was trying to contact. Upon accepting the request, the screen was then filled with Shinra's beaming face.

"Shizuo! There you are!" the doctor exclaimed, a bright grin on his face. "We were starting to think that something bad had happened to you…" He turned his face away from the camera, glancing over his shoulder. "Celty, Shizuo's on! You have no idea how relieved she'll be. Maybe the smoke will finally clear up and we can get back to our regular love ma-"

The doctor's sentence was cut off when a dark shape pushed him aside, flooding the camera with familiar wispy black smoke. The tapping of keys filled the speakers, nearly drowning out Shinra's wine of "Celty, why'd you push me out of my chair?"

The chat log under the video screen popped up, filled with big, bolded letters.

'WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?'

Shizuo couldn't help but flinch. Shinra hadn't been kidding in his message; even without a face, he could tell that she was just about ready to hop on her motorcycle a somehow carve a road through the ocean in order to get to Paris. "We ran into some trouble on the way to Paris, so I forgot." Even though she lacked eyes, he could still felt like Celty was glaring at him. "Sorry…?"

The smoke pouring from the dullahan's neck trembled a bit, as close to a sigh as she could get, and the tension in her shoulders was released. 'Sorry. I panicked when Shinra told me about the train. Are you okay?'

"We're fine," Shizuo confirmed and Celty's shoulders hunched, her neck leaning away from the camera. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Celty waved her hand; all was forgiven. 'I'm just glad that you're okay.'

"Oh, so you were on the train?" Shinra piped up from the floor, the top of his head barely peeking over the desk. After a couple of seconds, his eyes were peering out over Celty's shoulder, glancing at the blond curiously. "What happened?"

"Same as what happened in Cairo and 'bukuro," the blond shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Some goons tried to snag the flea again. There was just more of a mess this time."

"That's what it sounded like," Shinra said, looking thoughtful. "Some sources said that someone was shot…?"

"Don't remember anything about that," Shizuo shrugged, trying not to make eye contact. More than anything, he didn't want his friend to know that he had broken his promise to keep Izaya out of danger. Even if the stupid flea had come back, he didn't want to admit that he had failed. "There was a lot going on."

'Understandable,' Celty replied.

"Just as long as the two of you are okay," Shinra grinned. "Although, you still look like you've been through a lot." When the blond only gave him a blank stare in response, the doctor knew that he had to elaborate. "You look exhausted, you know, you're all… rumpled and stuff…"

Shizuo snuck a look at the video feed of himself. Shinra wasn't too far off the mark. His hair was a mess, sticking up in different directions, most likely due to Izaya's wandering hands. Not to mention, he did look a little out of it but considering he had woken up at one in the morning and then had sex with his worst enemy…

A strange feeling swept over him. Oh _God_. What if they _knew_? Could they even tell? He had never been so concerned about his sex life but then again, he had never _had_ a sex life. Not to mention, his current sex life involved _Orihara Izaya_, one of the worst human beings on the face of the planet and Shizuo was never one for keeping secrets and…

"Shizuo, are you okay?" he heard Shinra ask slowly. "You seem a little… out of it."

He hadn't even realized his face was red until Shinra snapped him out of his inner turmoil. "I… um…" he paused to clear his throat. "I'm fine. Sorry…" Now was a great time to change the subject. "Um, you said that there was something we needed to talk about. What was it?"

Celty seemed to pause, the smoke drifting from her neck wavering in confusion at the sudden shift. Shinra, however, didn't seem to notice it at all. "Oh yes! Can you get Izaya? This is something that the both of you need to hear."

"The flea's in the shower," Shizuo's words only seemed to peak the dullahan's confusion. "I'm not sure when he'll be out. Why?"

"It's about the blood sample."

Shizuo arched his brow. Oh. "What happened?"

"I'd rather Izaya be present…"

"_Shinra_."

The doctor paused, fidgeting with his tie. During the moment of silence, Celty placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're right, Celty," Shinra sighed and turned back to face the blond. "It's gone."

Shizuo narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean it's _gone_?"

'We think his father swiped it while he was in town,' Celty typed and a puff of smoke billowed up from her neck, swelling out of aggression. 'I don't trust him. He might be up to something…'

It didn't take very long for Shizuo to connect the dots. "Are you thinking that he was the one that sent those goons after us?"

'It's possible,' the dullahan responded and Shinra nodded in agreement. 'But who they are is a mystery so far.'

Before Shizuo could respond, he heard the door creak open and Izaya slunk in, closing the door quietly behind him. "The shower is open, Shizu-chan. I suggest you take one- you probably still smell from last…" he trailed off once he laid eyes on the laptop. "Oh, I see you have gotten a hold of the good doctor and the courier. Anything interesting I should know about?"

"Is that Izaya?" Shinra asked. "Put him on!"

"Get over here, flea," Shizuo grunted, trying to force his voice to hold the same amount of contempt as before they… He forced his train of thought off of the subject; now was not the time, especially with Shinra and Celty watching.

"Hmmm, so forceful," Izaya pouted as he padded across the room and sat next to Shizuo, his lithe fingers brushing the blond's large hand. Even with all of his strength, the bodyguard next to him couldn't help but blush, his ears turning red as the informant shamelessly playing his fingertips across his calloused knuckles. Izaya, however, was completely unaffected, smirking in his usual manner. "What news do you have for me, Shinra-sensei?"

The doctor and dullahan were completely silent. Celty's smoke was waving around in confusion and Shinra looked positively puzzled, his jaw slack and his eyes narrowed at the screen. They exchanged looks (as much as they could given Celty's lack of a face) and Shinra spoke up.

"Are you guys okay?" he sounded hesitant, his eyes cautious.

"Of course!" Izaya answered as Shizuo let out a grunt that sounded like, "Fine."

The doctor and dullahan looked unconvinced. 'Your face is red, Shizuo. Are you sure?'

The blond turned away, trying to draw attention away from his face. "I'm _fine_. Just talk to the stupid flea."

"Ah yes, what is your news anyway?" Izaya inquired once more, smirk still on his lips as he scooted closer to the blond and placed a hand on Shizuo's thigh. This only caused Shizuo to turn a deeper shade of red. "Pay no attention to Shizu-chan. He's still exhausted from all the _trouble_ we've gotten into."

Shizuo tossed a glare at the informant. He was doing this on purpose, being a tease just to get a reaction from him. But maybe, he didn't even want a reaction from Shizuo and instead wanted to roust one from the people they were talking to.

"Um, right…" Shinra said slowly, not taking his eyes off of the blond. Beside him, the movement of Celty's smoke had become more erratic, waving in front of his face every now and then. In fact, it had started to look like a storm cloud. "You remember that I took a blood sample from you, right?"

The informant's eyes glinted dangerously. "Yes. What about it?"

"It's gone."

All previous traces of amusement on Izaya's face immediately vanished. "_What?_" The hand on Shizuo's thigh disappeared. "What do you mean 'it's _gone?_'"

"His no-good father took it," Shizuo grunted from beside him.

Izaya turned his wrath on his newfound lover, glaring daggers at him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better, Shizu-chan?"

"We at least know who called those goons on us," the blond held his ground, glaring right back at the informant.

Surprise disrupted the informant's wrathful expression. "I see. So Kishitani-san sent those men after us."

'That's what we think,' Celty responded, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

"Any idea who they are?" Shizuo asked, glancing at Shinra.

"I have a few theories but I don't know for sure," the doctor shook his head. "I could try to roust something from him though…"

"You mean an interrogation?"

"Yeah!"

Next to the doctor, Celty shook the stump of her neck, smoke exhaling like a sigh.

"What? Do you not believe me, Celty?" Shinra looked genuinely injured by his lover's reaction.

"Oh Shinra, we all know that you would be terrible at interrogating someone," Izaya chuckled, his hand somehow finding its way back to Shizuo's thigh. "Out of all of us, you might as well be a kitten."

Shinra pouted and Celty put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it sympathetically.

'I'm sure he'll have his own method,' she told Izaya, typing with her other hand. 'I believe he can do it.'

The doctor's mood quickly improved. "Thank you, Celty my honey! I can always count on you! That's why our love is so strong!" A quick jab was soon delivered to his stomach.

Shizuo rolled his eyes and moved towards the edge of the bed. "I've heard enough. I'll go tell everyone else the news," he waved a hand at Celty. "I'll make sure to get in touch sooner next time."

'Just as long as I know you're alright,' the dullahan responded, pausing her assault on Shinra's spleen. 'Just don't go for too long again or else I'll figure out a way to drive all the way to Europe.'

Shizuo's lips turned up as he got to his feet. "I'll be sure to remember that. Talk to you later."

"I'll be down in a bit, Shizu-chan," Izaya called after him as he left, making sure to run his eyes down the blond's body. He then turned back to the laptop screen with a smirk. "Well, if that's all, I should get going too…"

"One more thing before you go?" Shinra asked.

"Sure, Shinra-sensei…"

"What's going on between you two?"

The informant paused, his smirk faltering. "The usual, of course, apart from the fact that he is now my bodyguard. Why would you have to ask such a thing?"

"Something's different," the doctor noted, resting his chin on folded hands. "You two were in a room together and you didn't try to kill each other, not to mention the lack of insults. Also, what was with all of that unnecessary touching?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Izaya, it's perfectly normal for your relationship to change after being in such close proximity together," Shinra continued, shrugging his shoulders. "Shizuo has had to go from wanting to kill you to trying to keep you safe. That could cause a change in how you see each other. So…" he leant forward, placing his elbows on the desk. "What kind of relationship do you two have right now?"

"I fail to see how this is relevant to your crazy father stealing a sample of my blood and sending a bunch of maniacs after us," the informant seemed relaxed but his ruby eyes were glinting dangerously again. "If you don't mind, I should get going."

"Okay," the doctor shrugged, looking rather unfazed by the informant's glare. "But before you go, you might want to cover up that bruise on your neck…"

Izaya clapped his hand over the mark, swallowing a curse. He had almost forgotten that healing took a little longer for him than other nations.

"What is that from anyway?" Shinra began to prod, an excited grin on his face. "It kind of looks like a hi-" He was cut off once again by a jab to the stomach. "Celty! That was mean!" He pouted at the dullahan, who seemed to be shuddering a bit.

"I'm leaving now," the informant growled, hand still clamped firmly on his neck.

"Okay," Shinra smiled back at him. Cheeky bastard. "Oh, nice hair by the way!"

Izaya slammed the laptop lid shut, now thoroughly irritated. Cursing the damned mark on his neck and his stupid friend, he stalked out of the room and down the hall, hoping that the hickey would be gone by the time he got downstairs.

…

Shinra snickered when the connection was cut off. So the great Orihara Izaya _was _in denial… A puff of smoke to his left told him that his beloved fairy had just let out a sigh. He glanced at her; she looked absolutely exhausted.

'That… was really weird,' she told him, fingers tapping slowly against the keys.

"They had sex."

The dullahan straightened up, smoke stiffening in surprise. The computer screen was filled with assorted characters as her shaking fingers tried to find the correct keys.

'lksdggudsgywhhatd dhgdughghgfg WHAT'

She didn't even bother to use punctuation in her surprise. No. It couldn't be. It was just _impossible_.

"The signs are all there," Shinra shrugged. "Shizuo had very obvious sex hair and his clothes aren't normally that wrinkled. Not to mention the touching, the lack of insults… Their body language gives it away. And then there's that hickey…"

'STOP.' Celty finally managed to type out, shaking her neck vigorously. 'I don't even want to think about it!' Imagining her best friend even kissing Izaya was bad enough; she didn't even want to think of them sleeping together. If she possessed her head, she would be screaming for brain bleach.

"Sorry," the doctor smiled sheepishly. "It is a bit obvious though…"

'I did notice that they were acting different,' the dullahan let out another smoky sigh and got to her feet, leaving their office space.

"Where are you going?"

'I'm going to take a very long shower,' Celty responded, shoving her PDA in Shinra's face. 'I think I deserve it.' She shuddered once more at the thought of Izaya and Shizuo… God, she really needed that shower.

"Oh, maybe I can join you!" Shinra beamed, not even trying to be suave with the proposition. "We can have some fun of our own!"

'NO.' The doctor wilted at the harsh response. 'Not until that image is out of my mind.' She shuddered one last time and stalked off towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of smoke behind her.

"Okay but come to bed at least?" Shinra called out after her. "We don't have to do anything, just cuddle!" No answer. He shrugged; no matter, he had a call to make anyways…


	23. Chapter 22: The Tragedy of Jeanne d'Arc

**Here it is! Sorry for the wait but summer got me caught up. Now we can move on to see how that bet is going... Enjoy and please review!**

Chapter 22

The Tragedy of Jeanne d'Arc

Japan dreaded seeing America's face that morning. Ever since he had gotten out of bed, he could already see the blond approaching him, a gloating smile on his face and his blue eyes twinkling in satisfaction. His only defense was trying to act like he had no idea what America would be talking about but in actuality, that wasn't even an option either. Everyone in that house would know what America would be talking about and there was no way that Japan could ever hope to avoid it.

After all, France's walls weren't soundproof.

The only option left: accept defeat.

That was what he was prepared to do as he sat at France's glass dining table, staring down into the cup of tea that France had been too kind to make for him and listening to the sounds of the Frenchman preparing breakfast.

"It can't be that bad, _Japon_," France said from the kitchen, glancing at the other nation over the counter. "Losing a bet isn't as terrible as you think. Besides, _Amerique_ won't rub it in too much."

"Francis-san, pardon me for saying so but you have no idea," Japan sighed. "Alfred-san has been feeling very strongly about this bet and nothing will make him happier."

"Ah, _oui_, he did seem very excited about it when we talked last night," he could practically hear the smile on the Frenchman's lips. "I am sorry, _mon ami_, but I see his point as well. After all, _Monsieur_ Heiwajima seemed rather eager to stay by his side all night…"

"I realize that…"

"Then you are upset about the money?"

"A little," the Asian nation sighed. France's kitchen timer went off in the other room and the creaking of the oven door was soon heard. "I don't quite understand it… but then again, I don't understand why he was right in the first place. They have always hated each other so why is it that they…?"

"People change, _mon ami_," France smiled, appearing with a tray of freshly baked pastries. "Sometimes the heart grows fonder of those that we least expect when we least expect it." He gently set the tray on the counter and turned to his espresso machine, grabbing several mugs as he did so. "The way he looked at Gilbert when you brought him here… I know _amor_ when I see it."

"His name is Orihara Izaya now," Japan corrected, a sad smile on his face.

"Ah, yes, that is strange, _non_?" France noted as he messed with the espresso machine. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"No one does," Japan let out another sigh. "He only remembers fragments from before but nothing else."

"I see," France suddenly sounded quite subdued and the entire house went silent for a moment.

Japan fiddled with his cup, staring into the liquid inside. If there was anything that he and France had in common right now, it was that strange feeling of alienation. The two of them, along with other nations like Spain and Italy, had been so close to Gilbert before he had disappeared and to find him living a completely different life with no memory of them at all was more than a shock. He had no idea who any of them were. How could that even happen, especially to a nation of all people? Most of all, they all shared the same fear, that if he were now a completely different person then their relationship with him would never be the same. The fear that no matter what happened, it probably would have been better if Gilbert had truly been dead; at least then their friend wouldn't be so lost to them.

But that was selfish and Japan knew it. They were lucky to find him at all, memories intact or not. All they could do for now was help him along and maybe he would find more than just mere puzzle pieces of memories.

The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps against marble and suddenly, France's mood had increased greatly.

"Ah, that could be _Amerique_," he snickered from the kitchen. "He's probably very excited to give you the good news."

Japan felt his lips twist into a grimace. Hopefully it wasn't America. Maybe, by some show of luck, it would be Shizuo or Izaya coming down those stairs. If that was the case, then he would be spared for at least a while longer.

"I know what you're thinking," France said in a sing-song voice. "I wouldn't count on it if I were you. Our two lovers are probably sleeping in after such a… _passionate_ night."

Sure enough, Japan could see the all-too-familiar ahoge bobbing up and down before America even entered the dining room and all that followed after was just as he had dreaded before.

Even before America rounded the corner, it was painfully obvious that he would have a gigantic grin plastered across his face. His expression could have lit up the entire room. His lips were stretched out into a Cheshire grin and his baby blue eyes were twinkling with sheer and utter joy. A cold feeling spread across Japan once those eyes were laid upon him; it was like a wild dog had just set its sights on its weaker prey.

"Hey, Kiku," he said with a sly grin, sidling up to the table. "Did ya sleep well last night?"

"I slept well enough."

"Oh really?" the blond nation's grin widened enough that it seemed to threaten to split his face in half. "Cause I couldn't get to sleep. It was kind of hard, you know, with all of that love-making going on down the hall."

Japan's face turned a deep red. "Why don't you just come out and say it?"

"Because I want to have fun with it first," America smirked. "Let's see, how did it go again? Ah yes! 'Oooh, yes Shizuo, right there! Ohhhhh yes, yes, fuck me harder!'"

"That didn't happen!"

"Oh, were you paying attention the whole time? You little pervert."

Japan's entire body was probably red by this point. "N-no! Of course not! Y-you know my room was right next to Izaya-san's!"

America only laughed in response.

"_Amerique_, stop picking on him," France chided from the kitchen. "Do you want me to tell Arthur about your behavior?"

America's expression soured. "C'mon Francis, no fair! Fine…" he turned to Japan, now a bit deflated. "Pay up."

"Fine," Japan sighed, fishing out his wallet. "I still don't know how you got that in the first place…"

"I told you, body language," America smirked as he was handed a sizable amount of cash. He let out a low whistle as he flipped through it all. "That's a lot of yen… well over a million." His smirk returned as he looked at a mortified Japan. "Nice doing business with you."

Japan shook his head; he was going to hate explaining the sudden withdrawal to his boss. "I still don't understand how you got any of that. They've always hated each other… How on earth could they just change like that?"

"Like I said before, people change," France mused.

"Not to mention all of the unresolved sexual tension," America snickered. "You should have been there, Francis. It was so thick, you probably could have cut it with a knife- no, a chainsaw."

"I still don't understand…" the Asian nation frowned.

"Ah, hate is as strong as love, _mon ami_," France sighed, waving a hand in the air to emphasize his words. "Both emotions are so passionate that the lines between them blur from time to time. For instance, _Angleterre_ and I clashed quite a bit back in the day but every now and then, we had a few moments of passion. The heat of our bodies helped us to forget that…"

America's amused expression disappeared completely. "Dude, no, gross. I don't need to hear about my boyfriend's past escapades, especially when they involved _you_."

France only smiled in response. "Have it your way, _mon ami_."

America shuddered. "Great, now I can't wipe that image from my mind… blech."

"Imagine how I feel…" Japan muttered under his breath. America hadn't been the one that had to sleep next the love-making couple the night before and the images of Shizuo and Izaya contorted in suggestive positions were definitely not welcome in the nation's mind.

"Please, grab some breakfast," France interjected from the kitchen. "We don't have to wait for the other two so by all means, dig in!"

"Yeah, they might need time for a morning quickie," America snickered as he sauntered into the kitchen, leaving Japan mortified once more.

"Alfred-san, please!"

"Oh come on, Kiku, get over it!" the American responded, sounding just a tad annoyed. "It happened, ok? They had mind-blowing sex and they're together now. Is that so hard to understand?"

"You don't know them like I do," Japan sighed as he got to his feet. "But… I can get used to it, I suppose…"

"Great!" America chirped. "Then you'll also be getting used to that sizable gap in your wallet!" He only got a venomous glare in response.

"Okay, that's enough," France said, smacking America upside the head with a potholder. "Stop bragging and eat. I've heard enough bickering for one morning and that's saying something considering how many mornings I've spent with dear Arthur after our passionate…"

"Dude, I get it," America interrupted, looking thoroughly disgusted as he grabbed a few croissants. "I'm done so you can stop going on about fucking my boyfriend, okay?" He turned to the espresso machine, filling a mug before heading back into the adjoined dining room. "Almost making me lose my appetite…"

France snickered under his breath as he handed Japan a plate. "I think that got him to shut up, didn't it?"

"Yes," Japan nodded, not mentioning how shutting up America had come at the risk of scarring the Asian nation as well. "It did…"

"Good," the Frenchman smiled, guiding Japan to the pastries. "Now, let's just relax and eat while we wait for them to drag themselves out of bed, _non_?"

"By the way, should we say anything?" America asked from the dining room, his voice slightly muffled by the amount of bread in his mouth. "You know, about their really loud love-making and such?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Japan frowned, putting some sliced French bread on his plate as France slid some jam his way. "_Arigatou_, Francis-san."

"Kiku is right," France nodded, picking up the tray of pastries and carrying it out to the dining table with Japan in tow. "For all they know, we were fast asleep. I say that if they want us to know, they will talk to us. If they don't, let's remain quiet. If they wish that we do not know, it's best that we respect their wishes, right?"

"So zip it?" America asked and the other two nodded. "Well, in that case, I'm going to need more of these…" he grabbed a few more pastries and went to work on wolfing them down.

Not too long after they had agreed to hold their peace, the sound of footsteps on the marble stairway greeted their ears once more and France immediately perked up.

"Ah, someone's up," he smiled into his espresso as the footsteps neared. "Remember, _Amerique_, no blabbing."

America pouted and stuffed another croissant in his mouth.

As the footsteps grew closer, Japan quickly tried to make it look like as if he wasn't expecting whoever it was; as if he wasn't curious about how and why those two had chosen to get together, especially in the way they had. The goal was to act natural and if either of them wanted to say anything, then it would be perfectly okay to talk about.

The footsteps slowed and Shizuo appeared from around the corner, slowly approaching the table. Japan nearly had to bite his tongue and he could sense that America was desperately trying to do the same thing, considering how much coffee he had just taken a swig of. The bodyguard didn't look exhausted at all, his eyes were clear and he looked like he had been very well rested. However, the appearance of his clothes and his hair were a different story. His shirt was rumpled like he had tried to put it on in a hurry and his hair, which looked like it had been smoothed out a bit, stuck up in different places, looking as though someone had been running their fingers through it repeatedly.

And there wasn't much thought to who that someone could be…

"_Ohayo gozaimasu_, Heiwajima-san," Japan greeted, forcing a smile as he once again tried to force the image of Izaya and Shizuo copulating out of his mind's eye.

"_Ohayo_," Shizuo mumbled in response as he took a seat, reaching for a _pain au chocolat _and completely ignoring the mug of espresso.

"Did you sleep well, _cher_?" France asked, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

Japan nearly gagged on his drink, not for the question but more for the term the other nation had used. Did France _want _to be beaten to death with his own dining table? Thankfully, the pet name and its meaning sailed completely over the bodyguard's head.

The implications of the questions itself, however, did not.

Shizuo seemed to turn a little red and tried to hide it by taking a bite out of the pastry in his hand. "I slept fine. Izaya's awake, by the way."

"Oh, we know…" America mumbled under his breath, a smirk teasing at his lips. Japan quickly delivered a kick to his shin, keeping a straight face all the while. "Ow!"

Shizuo eyed the two of them suspiciously but went back to munching his pastry.

"I noticed you don't seem very interested in the espresso," France said, changing the subject as quickly as possible. "Coffee not your thing, _cher_?"

"I don't drink coffee," the blond responded. "Too bitter."

"Sweet more your speed?"

The bodyguard nodded in response.

"Then I'll go get some juice," France said, getting to his feet. "I believe I have some orange juice in the fridge, if that'll work."

"Thanks," Shizuo mumbled around the pastry.

Japan glanced between the two as France sauntered out of the dining room. What on earth was he planning, referring to Shizuo in such a way?

"So Izaya recovered well?" America asked, trying to make his digging as casual as possible.

Shizuo rose an eyebrow but proceeded cautiously. "Yes, he did…" he glanced at Japan, who couldn't help but swallow hard. He may have been immortal but being on the wrong side of an enraged Shizuo was a terrifying thought for almost anyone. However, those bronze eyes went back to focus on America and Japan let himself breathe again. "He woke up in the middle of the night. He seemed fine to me this morning so there shouldn't be too much to worry about."

"Oh, I'm sure," Japan winced at the tone of knowing in America's voice. "That kind of thing can be hard on us, you know, dying and coming back. Takes a real toll…" _Not to mention having sex with someone that has the strength of Superman… _

"He seemed to take longer than you did, coming back," the bodyguard noted, once again completely missing the implications of what was being said. "When you…" he paused, obviously still coming to grips with what death meant to nations. "…died, you came back in minutes like nothing had happened. Why couldn't he do the same?"

"I noticed that too," Japan nodded, thankful that the conversation had been steered away from the subject of sexual intercourse. "It's possible that it's taking longer due to him adjusting to his former life. It seems to be that as he remembers more, his body changes accordingly. That could explain his hair and his regenerative abilities are slowly catching up."

"That's never happened before," America frowned, his focus also off of digging into boudoir-related activities.

"None of us have gone missing for twenty five years," Japan pointed out. "Nor have we had some bizarre bout of amnesia. Whatever happened to him, it somehow changed his body and now it's trying to get back to what it was before."

"Yeah, but what does that mean?" America asked, looking both irritated and confused. "It sounds good but it doesn't really make sense at all…"

"I'm not sure how to make sense of it either," Japan frowned. "It's just a hypothesis, seeing how the only person who has experienced it has also suffered extensive amnesia."

Across from them, Shizuo slowly munched on his pastry, tossing confused gazes between the two as they discussed the plausibility of Japan's theory. After a while, he growled and turned his attention down to his plate, trying to drown out the theory-laden babble across from him. For once, he was finding himself wishing that Izaya would show up out of nowhere and interrupt the current conversation because there was only so much more of it that he could take. If he wanted to sit and listen to someone going on about something he didn't quite understand, he would have stayed in Ikebukuro and listened to Shinra yap.

It wasn't as if he didn't care about the abnormalities of Izaya's current situation; in fact, a lot of what Japan brought into question began to concern him. If Gilbert disappeared twenty five years ago and somehow forgot everything, why did Izaya have memories of his childhood? There was no mistaking that he had aged throughout his life, considering that Shinra knew him from middle school. Then there was the issue of the memory loss itself. How could someone suddenly forget everything about their life and live as someone else for twenty five years? What had even caused the memory loss in the first place? Those jumbled thoughts were so worrying that he needed to push them away for fear that he might get to upset over them. It was so frustrating when he couldn't figure something out; it made him feel so stupid and more than useless, like the time where Shinra thought it was a good idea to give him a Rubix cube. Plastic never really stood a chance against his strong fingers…

As if the universe had answered his unspoken prayer, France swept back into the room with a glass of orange juice in hand, distracting Shizuo even further from the conversation taking place in front of him.

"Here you go, _cher_," the Frenchman grinned, placing the glass on the table with an excessive amount of grace. "You will probably like this a lot more than espresso."

"Thanks," Shizuo mumbled and took a small sip of the orange liquid. It was a bit bitter but sweet enough that he could tough it out.

From above him, he saw France glance over his shoulder, those bright blue eyes focusing on the entryway.

"Ah, there you are, _mon ami_," the Frenchman greeted brightly and then entire dining room fell silent. "I'm sure you slept well?"

"Like the dead," Izaya's voice wafted through the air and Shizuo could almost hear the smirk in the informant's voice. "You're France, I assume?"

"_Oui_," France's voice may have faltered a bit but if it did, Shizuo barely caught it. "Please, take a seat. We can catch up over breakfast."

"Gladly," Izaya sauntered over to the seat next to Shizuo and lowered himself into it, flashing his bodyguard a sly grin. For some reason, he had chosen to slide on his jacket. "Morning, Shizu-chan."

"Mornin'," Shizuo mumbled, turning his head to look at the informant.

There was a strange mischievous glint in the informant's eyes, completely different from the usual scheming glint that they usually held. It immediately made the blond think of someone that wanted to keep a secret and take pleasure in it, pressing a finger firmly to their lips and hissing out a, "Shhhh." Shizuo nearly rolled his eyes. Of course the flea would think that keeping their relationship a secret from everyone else would be entertaining… Izaya gave him a quick wink and turned his attention to the food on the table, humming as he spread jam on a slice of bread.

Across from them, Japan and America were watching intently. Once Izaya had entered the room, their conversation stopped dead in its tracks and they took more time observing what he was doing and how he interacted with Shizuo. After all, body language tended to change after sharing an intimate night with someone and for these two, it had probably changed dramatically. The lack of cursing and name-calling upon the two seeing each other was not entirely surprising and the look they shared seemed to confirm even more that their relationship had shifted from what it had been before. However, the silence caught up to everyone and Izaya felt eyes upon him so when he looked up and cocked an eyebrow at the two nations, Japan and America had to quickly avert their gaze.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing, just a bit surprised," America replied and Japan eyed him suspiciously. He better not… "You two are being awful civil this morning."

There was a break in Izaya's mask, even if only for a second. His smirk faltered and then returned to normal but his hand flew up to his neck, clutching the fur on his hood close to his skin. Next to him, Shizuo flushed a little.

"Ah, well, dying must have left me more exhausted than I thought," the informant said, trying to shrug off the question. "Besides, I'd rather eat first as opposed to have him chase me around on an empty stomach."

"That's not all you'd do…" America muttered and received another kick from Japan. He deserved it for tipping his hand like that…

Izaya shot another suspicious gaze at them but shrugged it off, turning his attention to his breakfast.

"I'm sorry we had to get reacquainted this way," France apologized as he took his seat at the head of the table. "But emergencies are emergencies, _non_? We're all glad that you recovered nicely and I for one am glad to see you after a very long twenty five years."

"Thank you for your concern," the informant purred as he sipped on his cup of espresso. "Spain told me about you. He said we were friends."

"Thick as thieves," the Frenchman chuckled, his eyes holding a far off look to them. "I don't think I could ever remember entering a bar without the two of you glued to my sides…"

"That's a concept that I'm still getting used to," Izaya sighed. "I don't normally drink."

"Lost your taste for it, _mon ami_?"

"Far from it," Shizuo snorted from next to the informant. "Couple of nights ago, he was drunk off his ass…"

"Oh?" France's blue eyes twinkled. "Antonio got to him, didn't he?"

The bodyguard shrugged. "I guess."

"I should have expected," France nearly guffawed, leaning back in his chair as he did so. "Tell me, was he nearly the handful he used to be, _mon cher_?"

Shizuo only shrugged but next to him, Izaya tensed, narrowing his eyes at France's terminology. Across the table, it suddenly clicked in Japan's head just why France had been using such an affectionate term towards the bodyguard.

_How clever…_

"I mostly behaved myself, right Shizu-chan?" Izaya purred, firmly clapping his hand around the bodyguard's thigh. Next to him, Shizuo started to turn a deep red. "Maybe I don't get too rambunctious on my own."

"Yeah, you do enough of that on a regular basis," Shizuo managed to snort, taking a drink of his juice to try to cover his face.

America wasted no time in releasing the loud crow of laughter that had bubbled up inside him. He sagged in his chair, long legs stretching under the table, and looked like he was about to asphyxiate due to his crowing. Next to him, Japan hung his head with a sigh. He considered America a great friend but he could be so emotionally taxing… Not to mention the second-hand embarrassment.

"No, Francis, he hasn't changed a bit," America managed to choke out between guffaws. "Still an annoying asshole and a handful to boot."

Izaya shot him a death glare, his grip still on Shizuo's thigh, but remained silent.

"Don't worry, _mon ami_," France reassured him from his end of the table. "I find that fact very comforting."

Izaya merely rolled his eyes in response but seemed to relax. Even for him, it wasn't very surprising that being a little shit signified that he was, in fact, okay. He released Shizuo from his grip and turned his attention back to his breakfast, opting instead to rest one ankle on top of the bodyguard's. Unsurprisingly, the blond next to him once again turned a deep shade of red.

"So, what's the plan for today?" the informant asked, shifting the subject away from himself. "I'm sure that everyone's planning to take off after one night, just like we have been doing, and telling me last minute?" He might have been bitter about being ill-informed. Might have been…

"Actually, no," America grinned when Izaya rose an eyebrow in response. "Thanks to that train incident, there's been another change in plans. It's obvious that these people have somehow been one step ahead of us so our best bet is to lay low for at least another day before heading to the Netherlands."

"And that leaves us to do what?" Izaya was beginning to look testy and Shizuo was thankful that his hand was no longer wrapped around his thigh. "I doubt you're going to let me go sight-seeing."

"Yeah, sorry," the American gave him a sheepish smile. "All part of laying low, ya know?" The informant rolled his eyes again but America only chuckled at the action. "I need to make a few calls in the meantime. I can think of a few people that will not be happy that we're behind again…"

"Let me guess, Arthur?" France purred and America nodded. "Ah, timing has always mattered to him…"

"Tell me about it," the American sighed. "He's going to be crawling up my ass over it, I can tell you already…"

"In that case, I'll call Ludwig-san," Japan joined in, briefly meeting the informant's eyes. "He'll want to know as well."

"Yeah, Kiku, take the easy one…" America grumbled under his breath and began to pout, picking at his food.

"So what do _we_ do for now?" Shizuo asked, fixing the American with a questioning stare. He may not have been as restless as Izaya was but even he wasn't looking forward to being stuck inside all day.

"I think you two just have to put up with being inside all day," America put his hands up in defense when Shizuo shot him a glare. "Sorry, dude, but you two are far too noticeable and they know that we were heading towards Paris. We're just going to have to deal with it for now."

Shizuo grumbled something under his breath but went back to his breakfast. Next to him, Izaya let out a heavy sigh and nursed his espresso, eyes tired and a pout on his lips. As the rest of the table finished up breakfast, Izaya's eyes wandered over to France, who was currently enjoying a pastry and chatting excitedly with the other nations. As he looked on, Gilbert's words came back to him.

_Ask Francis…_

What on earth could this nation know?

Not much else was shared over breakfast aside from small talk and catching up. France asked questions like what he had been up to in the past twenty-five years. Izaya hadn't been looking forward to that line of questioning and kept his answers short and simple to discourage any further prodding. Eventually, France gave up on digging and the table fell into silence until everyone finished. France went around the table and gathered up everyone's dishes, bustling into the kitchen.

"Don't mind me," he said as he walked off. "Better get to wasting the day away!" As he passed Shizuo, he squeezed the bodyguard's shoulder, letting the touch linger for a few seconds longer. "Maybe you can see Paris some other time, _non_?"

This time the bodyguard definitely noticed the pass and fixed the Frenchman with a glare. France only gave him a sultry smile in response and glanced at Izaya, who had become quite rigid in his seat. Across the table, America and Japan watched in anticipation, Japan looking mortified and America looking strangely excited. France gave a friendly smile to the bodyguard and released his shoulder, turning back towards the kitchen.

"No worries, _cher_," he said as he walked off. "I don't tend to chase after those that lack interest in me, especially if they have their eyes set on someone else." With those last words, he waggled his eyebrows at the bodyguard and disappeared around the corner, leaving Shizuo flushed.

What on earth did that mean? He glanced at Izaya. Did France know about the two of them? After all, they hadn't been very quiet last night so it wouldn't be out of the question…

A snort of laughter pulled the bodyguard out of his inner monologue and he fixed his eyes on America, who looked like he was about to blow a gasket with the amount of laughter he was holding back.

"S-sorry," the nation choked out and got to his feet, pulling his phone out of his pants' pocket. "I… I gotta call Arthur…" he stifled another giggle and walked off, snorting and cackling all the way.

Shizuo opted for shooting a glance at Japan, who looked mortified to even meet his eyes.

"Um… I… um…" the Japanese man stuttered, trying to avoid the bodyguard's gaze. "I need to… call Ludwig-san." He slowly got to his feet, almost as if he were trying to avoid startling a wild animal, and edged away from the other two, slowly retreating from the dining room. "E-excuse me…"

Shizuo watched as he nearly bolted out of the doorway, confusion etched on his face. What on earth was going on? Was there something going on that he didn't know about? He slowly turned to look at Izaya, who was looking slightly less bewildered than he was.

"Do you have any idea…?"

"What that was about?" Izaya finished and shook his head. "Not at all." He soon got to his feet, walking around Shizuo and to the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Shizuo asked, grabbing the informant's wrist. What was with everyone taking off like this…?

"Just… to the kitchen," the informant said absentmindedly, trying to shake the bodyguard off. "Need to talk to our host about something. Why, do you want some more of what you got last night…?"

Shizuo glared at him, his face turning red again. "Shut up… I just…"

"Shhhh," Izaya placed a slim finger on the bodyguard's lips, looking down at him seductively. "I won't be long, Shizu-chan, promise. I'll be back~." He slipped out of the bodyguard's grasp and sauntered off towards the kitchen, disappearing around the corner in a second.

At the table, Shizuo put a hand to his face, feeling the heat on his cheeks. "Stupid flea…"

It was no surprise to Izaya that France didn't hear him enter the kitchen. After all, he had trained himself to be stealthy seeing how his line of work called for it nine times out of ten. Leaning up against the counter, he silently observed the Frenchman, who was currently loading up the dishwasher. Despite being hundreds of years old, he only appeared to be in his mid-twenties, his graceful features permanently trapped in between boyhood and adulthood. The only other thing that made him look slightly more his age was a light amount of stubble that traced his jaw line, darker at his chin and lighter near his cheeks. Every move he made was made with the upmost grace and if one observed him long enough, they might be able to catch that strange gleam in his eyes, one that signified that he was much more experienced than he seemed.

"Don't think for one second that I didn't hear you come in, _mon ami_," that clear voice actually caught the informant off guard; he was certain that France hadn't heard him approach…

"I'm not used to people knowing I'm around when I don't want them to," he replied, feeling rather impressed that the nation could tell. "How could you tell?"

"You don't live for hundreds of years without learning how to listen for someone," France turned to him, a bright smile on his face. "I used to be a great empire, you know." He paused to close the dishwasher and grabbed a towel, using it to dry off his hands. "Was there anything you needed?"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," Izaya watched as the Frenchman's eyebrows rose slightly, more out of amusement that surprise. He also had this knowing look on his face and the informant couldn't help but feel troubled. Had he been expecting this?

"Go ahead, _mon ami_. I'm here to listen."

"It's a personal question," Izaya said flatly. "I understand that you may trust the others but this isn't something I want either of them to hear."

"And what about your friend, the one dressed like a bartender?" France asked. "Does he know about this private matter of yours?"

Izaya paused. France was digging for something, he had gone through enough time dealing with smooth-talking scumbags and yakuza officials to recognize it when he saw it. After all, it was one of his best tactics. "To an extent," he opted to answer cautiously.

France only nodded in response and walked towards the exit, motioning for the informant to follow him. "There's a place where we can speak in private. I'm sure you'd appreciate that, no?"

Izaya nodded and followed the nation out of the kitchen, turning the corner into the dining room. Almost immediately, he noticed that Shizuo had left, probably retiring upstairs for the time being. He could hear America's voice from just down the hall but as far as he could see, everyone else was well out of sight. France led him past the stairway and down another short hallway, turning into a room to their right. It appeared to be some sort of study, filled with shelves and shelves of books. Multiple lounging chairs dotted the room and a mahogany desk sat in the corner, adjacent to a large bay window, books piled on the seat.

"Take a seat," France said, motioning to one of the chairs as he closed the door behind them. "We don't have to worry about being interrupted here. Now, tell me, what is your relationship with that bodyguard of yours?" His face grew bright when Izaya eyed him suspiciously. "You may have been absent and currently an amnesiac but I've known you long enough to know what's on your mind."

"So you want to know about Shizu-chan?" Izaya sighed as he took a seat.

"_Oui,_" France smiled. "You two seem to have an interesting relationship."

"That doesn't even begin to describe it," the informant snorted, staring out the window. "We've hated each other since the day we met and not much has changed since then."

"So then why is it that he's here with you?"

"A mutual friend of ours wanted him to come with me," Izaya explained. "He thought I needed protection."

"I see," France's blue eyes glinted with mischief. "For someone that hates you, he's been doing a fantastic job at keeping you alive." Izaya remained silent. "I'm assuming your relationship has changed?" The silence continued as the informant glared out the window. "So it has. Is this part of your question?"

"I'm leading up to it," Izaya sighed and turned to face the other man. "Until recently, everything between us has been so simple. We've always hated each other. That's how it's always been. And then I have to travel around the world with him and everything changes. Suddenly, we could be in a room together and not want to kill each other. After a while, it seemed like…"

"You didn't even mind having him around, like you wanted him around?" France picked up from where he trailed off and the informant shot him a glare.

"You can drop the act," he snorted. "You know something, I can tell. You're just waiting for me to get there."

Another bright grin broke out on the Frenchman's face. "You still know me too well. As I understand it, you and he have taken your relationship to the next level."

Izaya narrowed his eyes at the other man's words. "What do you mean?"

"_Mon ami_, my walls aren't soundproof," France's grin grew even more when the informant's face flushed.

"We were that loud?" Izaya let out a sigh when France nodded. "And everyone knows?" Another nod. "Fantastic."

"Sorry, _mon ami_, but these things happen," France shrugged. "Now about that question…"

"I'm leading into it now," Izaya's gaze trailed back to the window. "I started to think about where this is going to go because I already know that this is more than just a one-night-stand. Once we reach the Netherlands, I know I'm not going back to Ikebukuro and I know that he won't be able to even dream of staying away from Tokyo."

"You don't have to stay with us, you know," France assured him. "Everyone just wants to see you again, especially Ludwig. If you have made a home in Japan, then you don't have to stay. You can always explain to him…"

"I understand but even then, there are still a few issues," the informant pointed out. "I'm immortal and as much as I hate to admit it, Shizu-chan is definitely human."

France's features had suddenly become tight and it seemed like he had paled a bit. "And why bring this up to me?"

"Gilbert said you would know."

This piqued France's attention. "He talks to you?"

Izaya nodded. "He knows I can trust you."

"Well, he would know about my expertise in this particular matter," France's eyes started to hold a strange, far-off look to them. "I'm sure you're familiar with Jeanne d'Arc, more commonly known as Joan of Arc?"

"I passed history class so yes," Izaya responded. "You knew her? Personally?"

"Quite personally," a wistful smile graced France's lips. "I loved her. She was a wonderful and very beautiful woman. She dedicated her life to protect me, to fight for me. She was truly the love of my life."

"What happened? Did it work out?"

"She died," France sighed. "You should know the story by now. Burned at the stake for being a 'witch.'" He paused, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, I don't tend to talk about this much…" He took a shaky breath to try and compose himself. "I have had many a lover but Jeanne was one in a million. I don't think I'll be able to find anyone like her ever again. What more do you want to know?"

"What should I do?"

France let out a sigh and leant forward, looking down at the ground thoughtfully. "_Mon ami_, there's only so much you can do in this situation. Getting romantically involved with mortals is by no means forbidden but it's also not strongly recommended. Whoever it is that you get attached to will eventually die. It is the nature of human beings. But…" he held up a finger. "I would be lying if I told you that the time I spent with Jeanne weren't some of the happiest days of my life. Is it worth it? I'll let you make that choice. But be warned, while I spent moments with her in total bliss, I have had to spend the rest of my life trying and failing to get that feeling back. It's a decision that can't be made lightly."

"I see…" the informant mumbled, casting his eyes down at the ground.

"I can say that you do seem happy with him," Izaya looked up to see a warm smile on France's face. "Don't let a good thing pass you by, _mon ami_." There was a pause. "Are you scared?"

"All my life, I have observed human beings and their mannerisms. Humans are very selfish and hurtful creatures. I guess that's why I've always found them so fascinating," Izaya mused, turning towards the window again. "At a young age, I noticed that people are usually crushed by love. It ruins them, destroys them, and ultimately causes pain, no matter how happy they might have been. That's why I decided to love all of humanity. By loving all humans, I could completely avoid getting hurt by just one person because there would be a multitude of others, right?" He looked back to France, letting out a tired sigh. "And now, I can only focus on one person and no matter what route I choose, it will destroy me. So yes, I'm scared. I'm scared of getting hurt."

France let out a sigh, his face solemn. "Think on it more. But please, don't let this pass you by. I've known you for a long time and believe me, _mon ami_, you deserve to be happy." He slowly got to his feet, heading towards the door. "I'm glad you felt like you were able to confide in me. Please, feel free to roam around the house. As an old friend, you are welcome to every single nook and cranny here."

"I think I will stay here for a while longer," the informant responded. "I need that time to think."

"Of course," France smiled and opened the door, stepping out of the room.

"And Francis?"

France turned back at the sound of the informant's voice. "Yes?"

"Gilbert… he says thank you."

A warm, nostalgic smile spread across the nation's face. "Anything for an old friend."

And with that, he closed the door gently behind him, leaving the informant to his thoughts.


End file.
